Symposium
by zozobee
Summary: A grad student struggling to make ends meet, Eva Barringer takes up a job waitressing a local coffee shop. A love story of lattes, with a smattering of scones and just a hint of a Caribbean vacation.
1. Astrophe

She walked in a sea of botany, scraping her fingernails against the chrysanthemums. She stepped quietly, murmuring a song she couldn't quite remember. She watered the plants, melody burbling in her throat.

It was Wednesday. She loped across the stone floor; languidly, lazily. She liked Wednesdays. She finished with the plants and sat, propping her feet on the white wire furniture. It was warm, though the wind rattled at the panes. The sun came through the glass ceiling. It was late afternoon, early autumn. Brown leaves danced outside, pressing against the walls, itching to join their verdant brethren. She wore a blue dress, straggly with black lace. The plants curled in tendrils, sprouting floor to ceiling, burgeoning in the colors of a falsely created spring.

The leaves arched around her face, long and lush and glittering with water droplets in sunlight. Outside, the wind bustled and blew. Inside, a girl hummed, quietly, reading a book.

She put the book down, beginning to doze in the warmth. Her favorite season had always been spring. She took a deep sigh, running fingers through her hair. It had gotten too long; she figured she needed a haircut in the few days. She settled back into her chair, plants whispering in her ears. They tickled the back of her neck, making her giggle and laugh. She was happy, truly happy. The glass roof crackled as the wind blew.

She heard a knock. Three smart raps against a wooden door. Her eyes opened to shards of glass falling from above. The sky had gone dark and wet, raining and storming and swirling above her. Her greenhouse, her verdant palace, shattered. She grabbed her book and ran for cover. The plants withered and died as the wind whipped through them. She was swept away by the wind, hair swirling up in a tornado-like plume. She cried for help, tears of anguish falling from her eyes.

* * *

She smacked her head into a wooden table as she woke, hair tangled and coiled down her back. She heard the knock again, four raps this time. She wiped the dream from her eyes and stood up, slipping on a pile of unwashed clothing. She ran to the door, sliding past piles of takeout and dirty dishes. She had left the TV on. A blonde burbled away behind her, speaking of nothing.

She reached the door, yanking it open. His hand was poised to knock again, but he lowered it sheepishly to his pockets. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were dark. His dark hair dripped onto the welcome mat. It had started raining.

**Author's Note: Here we go again! Oh, it feels good to be back. **

**Hugs and Kisses, **

**Zoe**


	2. Trumspringa

She walked into the coffee shop, utterly and entirely desperate. This was her last chance. At least, this or resigning herself to operating a brothel out of a cardboard box.

She held the application anxiously in her hand.

"Help needed. Inquire within."

She'd had little to no experience with café work, but she liked books and could smile on occasion.

After losing the lease on her last apartment and moving in with the girlhood gang—apparently credit cards were, perhaps, not the most economically sound manner of purchase- Johanna had told her of a job opening in the old coffee shop, The Den, had she heard of it? Hell, Eva was a writer. Of course she'd heard of it. The Den was one of those remnants of yesteryear. Half book shop, half coffee bar: it was a dirty, grimy place with sticky tables and the best latte in New York. She stopped in when she could afford it, which happened to be rarely.

She gathered up her gumption. It was about ten in the morning, in between the morning and lunch rushes. Whoever ran the joint, someone named Gardiner, had asked to meet her then. She swallowed whatever was nesting in her throat and stepped in.

She'd missed The Den. It really was the last real place in Manhattan. They'd always said they made all the bread from scratch. It was dark and filled with knotted walnut tables. Worn leather armchairs surrounded a roaring fire, despite the fact that it was only early autumn. She walked up to the wooden counter, coveting one of the scones. There was a bell, but she was hesitant to ring it. She looked round frantically. Johanna poked her head from the kitchen.

"Eva, darling, you're here. So happy you took me up on this."

"Not like I had much of a choice," Eva replied. Johanna laughed. They'd been friends in college but, after deciding to move to the big city for grad school, they had parted ways. Johanna had ended up going to fashion school for some end, while Eva had gone to NYU for what even she realized was an entirely useless graduate degree. Nevertheless, they'd both pushed on, renouncing each other's friendship over the past few years. On one of Eva's recent mental breakdowns, she'd grabbed a credit card and gone on a spree she wasn't particularly proud of. Upon returning her purchases, she'd run into Jo. They'd had the requisite chat, and Jo's part time gig as barista had come up. They'd become fast friends once again, and Eva moved in with Jo, along with three other girls from assorted schools in the city.

"Here, lemme show you around," Jo said, wiping her hands on her apron. "There aren't too many people here, so learning the ropes shouldn't be too hard."

"Jo, I don't technically work here yet."

"Nonsense, Vi'll love you."

"Vi?"

"She owns the place. She's great." Jo leant back, yelling into the kitchen. "Hey, Violet!" A smattering of writers coughed and looked askance. Jo ignored them. A shortish woman with a dark pixie cut came out, flour spattering her face. She was pretty enough for someone of her age, Eva guessed about forty, though she didn't really look it.

"You must be Eva," the woman said. "Johanna told me about you. Said you're a bookish type."

"Yeah, I guess," she said, muttering towards the floor.

"Studying?"

"Yeah. English at NYU."

"How much coffee do you drink a day?"

"More than I should."

"You read Calvino?"

"Took a class on Cosmicomics."

"How are you with dealing with these brats?" Violet gestured to the conglomeration of writers, who rolled their eyes and gave them dirty looks.

"They're alright, spend half my free time as one of them."

"What do you think about Elvis?"

"Dead, but excellent." Violet scoffed and shook her hand.

"Welcome to The Den," she said. "So, you've met Johanna, and you've met me. I think all that's left is Cute Mike. Hey, Mike!" She gave a shout down to the basement and received a muffled yell in response. Eva heard a dull sort of clatter up the stairs. A tallish sort of man, maybe 6'2" loped into the room. He was maybe 27, had an arm of sleeve tattoos and the dark spiked hair of someone who spends too much time on their morning toilette. He too was coated in a fine layer of flour.

"Right," Violet said. "Eva, this is Mike Lucas, some chick called him Cute Mike once and the name stuck." Cute Mike smiled. He had a chipped tooth, the left incisor. "Cute Mike runs the bakery downstairs, takes care of most all the food, and all the other assorted odd jobs that no one else can really be trusted with. He really cleaned the place up. So, Mike, this is Eva. Say hi." He gave a sort of wave.

"We like Cute Mike," Johanna said. Vi had a sort of blank look on her face. It remained for a few seconds before she snapped to attention.

"Right, your job. You'll be working the counter with Johanna, making drinks and dealing with the hooligans. They shouldn't be too bad, just whip'm back into shape if you need to. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some bread to attend to. There's a spare apron behind the counter. Feel free to have a macaroon, they're awesome." With that, Violet sauntered down the stairs with a banging of her motorcycle boots. Johanna looked at Eva.

"Isn't she awesome?" she asked.

"Absolutely excellent," Eva replied. Cute Mike was leaning against the espresso bar.

"So, Miss Eva, tell me about yourself," he said. He was pretty cute, the more she looked at him. Slender but built. A bit wiry, but impossibly impressive arms. She giggled against her better judgment.

"Well, umm, I'm Eva. Hi. About 24, working for my advanced in English. Like most English majors, I have this hideously far-fetched idea that I'm to be a writer, though I've made admittedly little progress on that front. I'm a Sagittarius, allergic to strawberries, and enjoy long walks on the beach." She scratched her head. "I'm not really sure what you want me to say."

"What do you think about Elvis?"

"What is it about you people and Elvis?"

"Call me a theorist. What do you think of 'em?"

"Impossibly excellent, though sadly deceased." Mike looked at Johanna.

"What? Vi's letting in people who fail the interview now?" Johanna merely laughed and went about mopping up a table.

"Well," Mike said, "Despite your lack of an open mind here, I think we're going to grow to be excellent friends." He stuck his hand out. She shook it.

* * *

Eva went home that night utterly exhausted and the tiniest bit drunk. After shuffling about The Den all day, she, Jo, and Cute Mike had gone out for a drink. Jo had left after a bit, citing homework, but she and Mike had stayed for hours and perhaps a few too many beers. Apparently, Mike had grown up in the same town as Eva, albeit a few years apart. The commiserated over the tiny shithole that was Meryton, though Mike was shocked when he figured out that Eva was a Barringer of Longbourn.

"I can't believe you were that little girl in that big old house all by yourself."

"Yeah, it got a little lonely."

"We were all jealous of you when we were kids," he said, taking a swig of his beer. "That massive house with just you and your parents, it must have been awesome."

"On a certain level, yeah. But they drive you crazy after a while. I mean, for the most part, I was all by myself and God knows my mother was the most neurotic creature to have ever walked this earth. Utterly terrifying. All she ever thought about was getting me married. It's insane, the amount of stress she put on it. Like I could only be successful if I had a three carat rock weighing down my hand."

"I know the feeling. Dad almost shot me when I said I was moving to New York. Mike, you'll never find a wife. Mike, you're wasting your talent and your education and everything we've ever given you. Mike, you're going to end up a male spinster living in a gutter somewhere because you couldn't pull your shit together."

"Wow," Eva said, pausing. "We're fucked up."

"I'll drink to that."

"Cheers," they said, clinking their glasses.

* * *

Cute Mike walked a stumbling Eva back to her apartment. After struggling with her key for a few minutes, Mike knocked and Eva was rescued by Jo and a gaggle of girls.

"Friends," Eva mumbled. "They's friends. Roommates." She pointed at each as she said their names. "Jo, Maria, Kathy, and Libby. They go to school with me. Katie and Libba are twins." Eva let out a long belch, summoning a giggle from the girls. Maria rolled her eyes and walked away.

"Hi girls, I'm Mike." The girls laughed and preened. "Jo, I brought you a present."

"Hope she wasn't too much to handle," Jo said. "She can be a bit rowdy when, well, you know."

"Lies. Slander. Mike, defend my honor," she said, toppling about. Mike laughed.

"She was great, plenty of fun. I think we'll all be pretty good friends around here. So," he said, handing care of Eva over, "See you tomorrow?"

"If I can dispel with her headache, I'll see you when I can. I'll be in by nine; I'm guessing eleven for her. Vi'll be fine with that, yeah?"

"Should be good. Vi likes her, thinks she's a free spirit."

"Mike, it's late for you, and impossibly out of your way."

"I like Brooklyn."

"Don't you have to be in by six?"

"I didn't want her to walk home by herself. It's not Meryton, you know?"

"You gentleman. It's so weird you guys are from the same town."

"It's fun to see someone from back home. Well," he said, buttoning his coat. "I'm off. Let me know if you need anything."

"Of course," Jo replied. Mike tipped an imaginary cap and whistled down the stairs. Jo closed the door and went to take care of Eva. Eva had taken it upon herself to empty the pantry of chocolate and create a nest in the living room.

"Come on, hon. Let's get you to bed."

"Not without my friends. Come, mes Amis," she said, gesturing to the chocolate. "We shall build a barricade."

"Alright, up we go." Jo heaved Eva to her feet, ignoring the kick she got as Eva frantically tore after the chocolate. "Maria!"

"What?"

"I need your help." Maria grumbled into the living room.

"Next time she gets plastered and I have to deal with her sorry ass, she sure as hell better be taking me."

"Just help me get her into bed." Maria rolled her eyes and grabbed Eva's legs. A thrashing Eva turned silent when she realized she was outnumbered, and promptly fell asleep. Jo and Maria heaved her into bed, shutting the door behind the snored.

"So, that Mike is pretty cute," Maria said.

**Author's Note: Ok, thought I might as well get a real chapter up for once. So, I think I'm actually going to have a schedule for this bloody thing, and I was thinking Mondays and Thursdays. Feel free to hold me to it. I think this one might actually be rather nice.**

**A few references to _Ten Inch Hero, _for those who saw my copyright infringement. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	3. Ecstatic Shock

Eva awoke with the most abominable of headaches. Jo had left a glass of water and a few pills next to her bed. She gratefully choked them down and relished in the sensation of water down her parched throat. She made the same declaration she made during every hangover and settled on never drinking again.

"Maria?" Eva called out. She heard a grumbling and a pattering as Maria came to her room. Maria was short, with dark hair in a bob that was constantly streaked with some color or another. Today was green. She'd made it a long-term habit to wear only black except for shoes, which were an ever-rotating selection of pastel stilettos. She hated most everyone in the apartment, but thought Eva had excellent taste in footwear. They got on all right.

"How's the headache?" she asked.

"Joyous. Where is everyone?"

"The twins are in class—I can't imagine what dark power made them go— I'm here, you're there, Jo's at work. Well, technically, you're supposed to be at work too. I think she's covering for you."

"Ugh, what time is it?"

"About ten. If you hustle, you can make it by eleven."

"There is literally nothing I feel less like doing."

"Your call, but didn't you just get this job like yesterday?" Eva moaned and got out of bed. She rushed through her morning routine as much as she could given her aching head, grabbed the subway into Manhattan, and made it to The Den by 10:58. Eva had missed the morning rush, and the place was fairly empty, save for the obligatory caffeine-hounds, screenwriters, and bloggers. Johanna waved her over.

"How's your head?"

"I could use a coffee."

"I think we could manage that." Johanna went about making a latte. "So, how was your date with Mike?"

"Wasn't a date."

"Course not. You should jump on that. Even Maria thinks he's cute."

"Maria thinks everyone with a tattoo is cute. Well, tattoos and Tom Hiddleston." She stopped to think before continuing.

"Yeah, he's cute. It's just, now that I know who he is. I remember him. He was this dorky little kid from my hometown."

"You're this dorky little kid from your hometown."

"That's not the point. He's just, he's just Mike. Cute Mike. He's cute, but he's local. I want someone foreign, someone who's an adventure, you know? I got out of Meryton because I really and truly hated it and everyone in it. I can't marry someone from home, despite the squeals of joy my mother would expel."

"Who said anything about marriage?"

"I hate you. You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know what you meant."

"It's like, I hate everyone. Really."

"You've been spending too much time with Maria."

"No, I mean, I just needed to get out. My parents, God knows my parents are insane. I can't deal with that crap all the time. I got out. Thank God I got out. I just…I'm 24. I can't get back into it, you know?"

"Jeez, you're a little heavy for a Monday morning."

"It's funny, that's what Mike said too."

"Maybe I'll give him Maria's number. Anyway, how's the day been?"

"A little busy this morning but nothing much beyond that. Just keep the writers happy and that's all there really is to it." They looked at the grunge mix occupying the leather chairs.

"You mean I actually have to talk to them?"

"They usually come and complain if they need something, but you should probably check on them every once in a while. It's a little worrying when they're quiet for too long, you know?" The two looked at the motley crew. They weren't really all that threatening, now that Eva was in control of their caffeine supply. She was pretty sure they would play nice.

They busied themselves for a few hours cleaning up after the miscreants, washing tables and keeping an eye on the toilet paper supply. After wiping down the long counter that made up the majority of The Den, Eva was sent to retrieve some pastry from downstairs. They were running out of cranberry scones. She hopped down the steps, jumping over the last two and nearly slipping on the tile floor. It was hot, much hotter than she imagined it could be down there. Mostly chrome and iron, with a large wood-fired oven and more baking trays than she thought possible. She found a very sweaty Cute Mike dealing with a large ball of dough.

"Wow," Eva said. "I always thought it was some sort of gimmick that you made everything yourself."

"Everything but the flour," he said, before beginning to roll some baguettes. "We out of cranberry scones again?" Eva nodded. "It's that Roseanne. Every damn morning she comes in and buys thirty. We should probably have gotten her a punch card by now."

"Perhaps." Eva was already drenched in sweat. "How do you even stand it down here?"

"Eh, you get used to it," he said, wiping his brow with a towel slung over his shoulder. "Vi's been down here for almost thirty years cranking it out. I sort of can't believe it after a while." A timer went off and he disappeared to put some trays in an oven somewhere. He returned a few seconds later.

"So," he asked, "How's the head doing."

"Not really what I would call excellent," she replied. "How bad was I last night?"

"I wouldn't exactly call you bad. More like amusing."

"Did you have to carry me onto the subway?"

"A little bit."

"Sorry about that."

"It was my pleasure," he said, taking a swig from a bottle of water. "We should do it again sometimes. I need more friends around here, and my roommate is driving me crazy."

"Amen to that."

"You have an assortment of them living with you, don't you."

"Too many if you ask me, but we make rent so it ends up being alright. Johanna, whom you know. Then there's Maria, the one with the hair, and the twins, Katie and Libba. Maria does something; no one's entirely sure what. I think she has a blog. The twins are undergrad at NYU, practically inseparable. I think Kathy got into Princeton or Duke or something, don't ask me how she did it, but couldn't bear being anywhere without Lib, so they both ended up here. Their parents are entirely insane; let them do whatever the hell they want. Of course, my parents are insane, and God knows Maria's must be, though we've never met them. No one really knows anything about Jo's. She doesn't talk about them much. Why am I babbling like this help." Mike grinned.

"You're funny when you babble," he said, "in an entirely platonic excellent way. I ought to," he coughed, "I ought to get working on those scones. I'll see you around."

"I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"I'll call if I fall into the oven," he said. She laughed before tripping up the stairs.

* * *

Things settled into an easy routine from there on out. Eva went to the Den around eight, dealt with the morning rush—most of the writers weren't up before eleven anyway—went to class around noon, and came back and worked a few hours in the afternoon. Jo had graduated about a year ago and was working freelance doing something, no one was entirely sure what. She was behind the counter sketching one day when Eva walked in. She always looked beautiful, blonde hair in a curled ponytail, falling over her shoulders. She just looked… happy. It made Eva a little bit sick.

She shrugged her bag down behind the counter and grabbed her apron off the hook. She tapped Jo's shoulder and pointed to a jittery redhead. Upon the girls looking at him, he turned away.

"Jo, that guy has been looking at you non-stop since I started working here. Hell, he's here more than some of the screenwriters."

"Oh yeah, that's Charlie."

"Charlie?"

"Yeah, Charlie. It was raining some day and he came in, soaked and ridiculous looking. He's been coming in ever since."

"He's cute."

"Yeah, pretty cute."

"Have you said hi to him?"

"Once or twice. He said a friend recommended this place to him, said maybe he'd bring him with him sometime. Want me to ask for you?"

"Hilarious."

"Hey, you said you wanted something new, something you haven't done before. I'm pretty sure you haven't done him before."

"Jo!"

"Alright, fine. I can take no for an answer." Jo put her hands up before heading out into the masses to see if everyone was all right. Eva rolled her eyes and settled into a mug of coffee. She looked over at Jo talking to Charlie and scoffed. He was pretty cute, now that she looked at him. Some chicks have all the luck.

* * *

"Darce, she's beautiful. I need you to help me."

"She works in a coffee shop."

"Oh, she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life. Please. I'm begging you." Darcy looked down at his friend, who seemed to be lying prostrate on the floor. He sighed, running a hand through dark hair. His friend did have a tendency to fall fast, but who knew. Perhaps this time it'd all work out. Darcy could be an optimist when he needed to be.

"What do you want me to do? Buy the shop and say I'll fire her if she doesn't date you?"

"As successful as that endeavor might be, perhaps something subtler?" Darcy groaned.

"You have a tendency for extravagance without my help. What do you need me to do?"

"Just exist. I need an extra body around. She has a friend and I need you to keep her busy."

"You can't just ask this girl on a date?"

"She might say no."

"So, you need me to babysit while you get lucky. Charlie, I really don't see why I need to be involved in this."

"Please. Just…please." Darcy sighed again.

"You're lucky I'm so excellent."

"Same old Darcy, always keeping that pride to a minimum."

"You're welcome."

"Thank you. I promise, she's pretty. Just your type."

**Author's Note: The illustrious Darcy rears his gorgeous head. Thanks for the lovely responses so far, and feel free to review, inbox me...I don't know. I like talking to you guys. **

**As always, much love and best wishes,**

**Zoe**


	4. Xeno

Eva walked into The Den with the usual exhaustion that accompanied a grad student. She stifled a yawn before throwing her bag down behind the counter and grabbing her apron. Jo yawned in response, covering her mouth before turning around to grab Eva an espresso.

It seemed winter was on its way. Those far too excited about the cold were eagerly bundling up in jackets and scarves. Eva, who was more a summer person, grumbled as she switched into an old hoodie and proceeded to yawn for the rest of the day. She'd had a lot of coffee to make up for the cold, and something about caffeine always made her yawn.

"Hey, can you go grab the new trays from Mike? I can't stand to go down there right now."

"Some people just can't handle the heat," Eva said. Jo poked her in the arm. Eva raised her hands in surrender and skipped down the stairs. Mike waved a hand in half-hearted salute, though he had a smile on his face.

"New trays are over there," he said with a limp gesture.

"You seem exhausted."

"I'm nearly dead. It's one of those days where everyone just feels lazy and tired and can't help dying all over everything."

"I know how you feel," she said before placing a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn.

"I think it's boredom," Mike said after a few seconds of puttering around the kitchen. "I'm busy all the time, doing something with my hands. And I'm good at that. It's just, I don't think about anything. My brain doesn't do anything. It just sits and molders away, mashed in into submission and thrown into an oven." He wiped his brow with his ever-present towel. "I guess I'm just tired and I don't know what to do about it." They were silent for a moment, though Mike continued to knead bread.

"You have given me a problem I don't know the answer to," she said simply. He scratched his head.

"This just got awkward, didn't it?"

"Just remind yourself how cute you are."

"Ever helpful with your advice. Take your trays upstairs," he said, beginning to smile again.

"I know when I'm down in the dumps, I like to make out with the cute English student holding a pile of scones."

"Goodbye Eva." He heard her laugh cackling up the stairwell and chuckled to himself, strong hands kneading bread.

* * *

Eva had another coffee and felt better, at least briefly. Jo was working on some sort of something for some unnamed company, so Eva gave her a scone and told her to go sit in the back and actually accomplish something. Jo acquiesced. The shop wasn't too busy anyway. She grabbed a book from the small library Vi kept under the register and began to read. _The Stand, _excellent_. _She'd always liked Stephen King. Appropriately grim and foul to offset the existence of a normal life. She turned pages eagerly. It was calm for a few hours.

She heard someone cough above her. Given the circumstances of her novel, she was appropriately concerned. She looked up with a roll in her eyes and, dear God this had to have been the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. He had dark hair that was slightly too long for his face and stuck up in weird angles and lips that wouldn't quit. He wore a pink button-down under a cranberry sweater with an orange pea coat. She stood on her toes to get a look at the rest of the outfit. Blue chinos cuffed at the ankles and boat shoes, no socks. And he was tall as hell. She took a quick look. No ring. Excellent.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone." His voice was soft and smoky, quiet. His breath smelled like wintergreen.

"Unless it's a broke and single grad student who likes long walks on the beach, I'm afraid I can't help you." She cursed herself silently. Or, maybe not. His face had stayed firm, but there was a glitter in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Maybe a twitch of the lip? Dare she think, a fledgling smile? She cleared her throat.

"Everyone here sits over there," she said, gesturing to the motley tables and chairs.

"Mind if I look around?" he asked. She shook her head. He turned from her. His eyes. She couldn't stop thinking about his eyes. She missed them, but settled for looking at his ass instead. No, that was wrong. She shouldn't do that. She forced herself to quit staring and go back to her book. He was probably here for a girlfriend, or perhaps a boyfriend. He was wearing an orange pea coat, and had an awfully tight a—no, she wouldn't think about that. No, she was content in singledom. She closed her eyes and went back to reading. She made it through a page before she heard a throat clear above here.

"He's not here," he said simply. Damn, it was a boyfriend. Shame.

"Shall I round up a search party?"

"He isn't worth it. You do coffee, yes?" she couldn't help turning to look at the espresso machine. He took that as a response. "An Americano, the biggest size you have. "

"You need room?" she asked, hopping off her stool.

"No."

"Anything to eat," she asked, going back to pull the espresso.

"No."

_ "_2.08," she said, handing him the coffee. He threw a fiver at her and went to sit down. Persnickety little bastard, she thought to herself. And she'd given him the big mug. At least he tipped well.

She cast him from her mind for the time being, though she may have gotten a bit over enthused thinking that she could afford two cup o'noodles tonight. She'd always been good at disappearing into a book, though she figured she should probably start one of the monsters lurking in her backpack. Still, she procrastinated in her favorite of ways, and progressed through the book for another ten minutes or so when she was interrupted by the man she had come to know as Charlie.

"Hey Charles."

"Hey Eva. Jo in today?"

"She's out running errands. Anything I can get you?"

"Erm, just the usual, I guess."

"One chai, coming right up. Want me to bring it to your table?"

"That'd be great."

"I'll put it on your tab, you get comfortable. Cranberry muffin, yeah?"

"You know me well, Madam." She gave him a smile and he went to sit down. She puttered around behind the bar, going about the preparations. He was a nice guy, one of those that you knew was too nice for his own good. He'd be good for Jo. She needed a distraction.

She gathered his order and began to walk to his normal table, though she realized he wasn't there. Odd. She scanned the mish-mosh of rickety tables and college boys in suspenders before finding him huddled in a corner next to…oy. She stirred herself for battle and proceeded forth. She didn't know why she was quaking in her Converse, but that man had seemed an…ominous presence, like he controlled half the universe with an iron fist and one wrong step from her could cause the Earth to be consumed with hellfire, though it could have been that he was just an ass. Yeah, just an ass. For Christ's sake, he was wearing a cranberry sweater. She would be fine.

"Here Charlie, the usual," she said, placing the plate and mug on the table. "Anything else I can get you or your friend here?" The friend looked up at her. His eyes were blue, really blue, with a sapphire ring around the outside and little streaks of rust running through them. She realized she was staring, and he was staring back. That little twitch in his lip, it was definitely there. She couldn't be imagining that.

"I'm good, thanks. This is Darcy, a…friend of mine. Darce, you want anything?"

"No."

"Then I guess we're all good," Charlie said with a grin.

"Of course, Monsieur." Eva gave a curtsey for an unspecified reason and flounced back to the bar, grabbing a cloth. No one was waiting in line and she felt the unspeakable need to eavesdrop. She began to wipe down the tables near them.

"Charles, if this is what this place has to offer, I'm sadly disappointed."

"Oh Darcy! They're impossibly pretty."

"From what I've seen, you must have found the only pretty one in the damned place."

"Oh, she is an angel, but I must say that, if it were not for Jo, Eva would be worth…focusing on."

"Eva? The brunette thing in the sweatshirt?"

"Phenomenally pretty." Eva couldn't help but smile. Jo had picked a good one, even if they weren't technically…well…anything. He looked at his friend. "You can't be serious. You aren't even remotely intrigued?" Darcy mumbled something and took a sip of his coffee.

"I'd agree she makes magnificent coffee, but she's only tolerable? Tolerable my ass." They continued, but Eva had lost the heart to listen. She giggled to herself at the preposterous nature of it all and proceeded back to the bar, poking her head into the back room.

"Jo, honey. Charlie just walked in with some snot of a friend. I told him you were on a supply run, so if you wanna roll with my lie, you're welcome to have just gotten back…if that makes any sense." Jo looked up at her.

"I got none of that, if I'm to be honest." Eva rolled her eyes.

"Charlie, who is boyfriend man, is outside with nasty man. Go say hi." Jo looked up at Eva with confusion in her eyes, but blinked it away.

"Do they need anything?"

"No."

"Why do I need to go say hi?"

"I don't know, he asked you to. Say you need to replace the saltshakers or something. This place is falling apart, there's gotta be something to do." Jo nodded and walked outside. Eva leaned against the supply shelves.

_Tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt him. Asshat. _

She went about neatening the shelves.

* * *

"Bingley, you can't be serious," he said as he left the shop.

"I don't know what I'm to do." He looked up at the dark-haired man beside him. "You're not mad I invited them to dinner… you are. I can always cancel."

"What are you hoping to gain from this relationship? There are plenty of women, plenty of beautiful women."

"You're a writer, Darce. You believe in love, don't you?"

"I was a writer."

"How I feel when I'm near her—"

"Have you been on a date with her?"

"…No."

"Have you even talked to her outside of that damned coffee shop?"

"Darcy, there's something inside me that flutters when I'm near her. I don't feel like me, I feel as if I've ascended. I, I don't know how to describe it except by calling it love. I love her."

"Love is a children's tale. Surely you've learned that by now. You're old enough."

"You've grown a cynic in your aged nature. Besides, I can still tell Caroline your new address if you truly refuse to help me." Darcy chuckled under his breath.

"If you need me to go to dinner, then I think I'd be able to muster that. Just—

just be reasonable with yourself. Don't expect anything more than what is reasonable." Charlie couldn't help the smile spreading across his face.

* * *

A few more hours passed, Mike and Vi went home, and Jo and Eva stayed to clean up the place. The miscreants were neat for the most part, though they had a nasty habit to ferret their trash away. No one was sure why, though perhaps Roseanne was trying to save her scone for later.

"Hey, how was Charlie?" Eva asked.

"Fine. The guy he was with was pretty cute."

"Total asshat."

"Really? He went to go to the bathroom, and Charlie suggested we all go out to dinner."

"He really needs to check his choice in friends."

"I mean, he did have a nice pea coat."

"Who wears an orange pea coat? Either he's gay or European or both. And not that I'm judging, but—"

"You seem a little defensive."

"Why would I seem defensive?"

"Because you seem defensive."

"Well that's dumb and stupid."

"Did he say something to you? Offend your honor?"

"He called me 'tolerable'. Ass."

"You are tolerable, I suppose."

"Son of a bitch."

"Why, is that a bad thing?"

"In connotation, yes."

"I haven't taken an English class in how long?"

"Like, he meant it in a bad way. Based on words he could have used and the words he did use."

"He said it to your face? Harsh."

"No, but he mumbled something."

"Eva, you understand how ridiculous you sound, yeah? Just come to dinner with us."

"Only because you're excellent."

"Knew it would be worth it someday." They locked up and walked to the subway.

**Author's Note: Yay Darcy whoot. Yeah. As always, you guys are lovely. Feel free to review, it gives me warm fuzzies. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	5. Opia

"Jo, I really don't want to deal with this."

"You'll be fine. I don't know what you're freaking out about," Jo said, fastening a pearl necklace. "You've met the man, he's not some creep off the street. He's not some Shane Collins."

"Yeah, bring up freshman year. Thanks for that."

"It's funny how you dated for sophomore and most of junior year too. But, irrelevant. Honestly, really, what's the worst that can happen?"

"We all die."

"Reasonably, what's the worst that can happen?"

"We all die."

"And we wonder why no one else will put up with you."  
"Hey, I am here of my own free will and happiness, and only cos I love you guys."

"Yeah, yeah."

"He's just such an ASS."

"You met him for like two minutes and then hid in a storage closet. Besides, it's just dinner and you look cute."

Eva had to admit she did look pretty cute. Jo had been practicing her maternal side and had done up her hair in a flurry of curls and pins. She was trying to get one last wear out of her favorite summer dress, a lemon yellow lace A-line with a cutout back. She wore black patterned tights and her tan oxford pumps. She shrugged on a caramel-colored leather jacket of Jo's. She figured that, since she was being forced to go out to dinner to begin with, she should be able to steal whatever she wanted from Jo's more than ample closet.

Jo, of course, looked more stunning that Eva thought should be allowed. She had gone through a sewing fit the past few nights and had churned out, among other articles, a gorgeous red silk shift. How she managed to pour herself in and look that gorgeous was a skill unlearned by Eva, and it only fueled her grumpiness.

Jo grabbed a tan trench coat, throwing it over her shoulders.

"You ready?"

"Must I be?"

"Come on, long train ride." Eva sighed as they walked out the door.

* * *

"Charles, I really don't want to do this."

"You'll survive. You've made it through worse."

"If you're referring to freshman year—"

"Course not, wouldn't bring that up," Charlie said. Darcy sighed.

"I just think this is a bad idea," he said. "You don't know the girl."

"That's why we're having dinner. To get to know them."

"Why is it them? Why couldn't you just ask out the pretty one and not drag me into this."

"I don't exactly have the best track record for these sorts of things."

"You're an adult now. I trust you to make your own bad decisions."

"Look, it seemed right at the time, and at this point, there's not really all that much you can do to get out of it. It's one night. Besides, if it ends up being a total flop, we'll go out and do whatever people our age are supposed to do."

"Charles, I'm not exactly dressed to go clubbing."

"Yeah, about that. You dress far too well. What the hell am I supposed to be wearing, if this isn't even a date for you."

"I always dress like this," Darcy mumbled.

"Then you always dress too damned well," Charlie huffed, before leaving to brush his teeth. Darcy turned and looked in a mirror, running a hand through his hair. Perhaps they grey suit had been a bit too much. Then again, he's gotten rid of the vest, and he'd left the hat at home. He looked fine; it was Charlie who refused to wear anything resembling clothing. He though dark wash jeans were appropriate for weddings. Then again, the girl—Jo, he must remember to call her Jo—was something of a fashion designer, though he hadn't caught the name of her firm. He attempted to stop his brain from rambling. Charlie returned from the bathroom.

"Hey, Darce," he said. "Thanks for coming to get me. You know how I get before these sorts of things…"

"Yeah, yeah, long as you don't give Caroline my new number."

"You might have earned that, but I reserve the right to the email address." Darcy couldn't help but smile as they walked out of the apartment.

* * *

"This is a place far too nice for the likes of me," Eva said.

"The boys are paying, so we should be alright."

"And I was planning on having ramen tonight." The girls walked into an unnamed restaurant that neither had ever been to, one of those places that you either knew the name to or simply weren't well-connected enough to have ever get a reservation. Needless to say, neither Jo nor Eva had ever eaten there.

It was dark inside, oak walls with red velvet drapes and marble floors. Most of the light came from elaborate candelabras that Eva was pretty sure held real candles. A pompous man with a preposterous moustache was holding court behind a wooden pulpit, presiding over a telephone book of reservations. He looked up at the two with a sneer burgeoning on his lips, though it promptly fell to a look of admiration when the door opened again.

"Ladies," Charlie said, spreading his arms to envelop Jo and Eva. "Fantastic to see you."

"They belong to you?" the man asked, disdain dripping from his tongue. Darcy shot a withering stare towards the man, though Eva took it as directed at her, and promptly rolled her eyes.

"Earl, please," Charlie said. They're my guests."

"Very well, sir. If you'll follow me." The four were led through a maze of dimly lit tables, receiving the stares of most in attendance at the restaurant. Most were at the girls, who squirmed under the glares and scoffs. A few brushed over them and their seemingly unfit clothing, settling on Darcy. He kept his eyes on the floor, trailing behind the rest of his party. He nearly tripped on a woman's coat, though everyone pretended not to notice.

They settled at a table in the back of the restaurant, hidden in a small private room. After taking the coats off the women, Earl retreated, mumbling under his breath.

"You'll have to excuse Earl," Charlie said. "He doesn't take all too kindly to strangers."

"Eh, I've dealt with worse," Eva said, promptly sitting herself down and kicking off her shoes under the table. The stilettos had been an awful idea.

"You frequent institutions such as this?" Darcy asked, seating himself.

"No, I prefer eating from my trough, though I do occasionally rise from the primordial ooze to grab a beer," she replied, harshly trying to maintain a straight face. Darcy merely looked at her. A waiter appeared a few moments later.

"Evening, gentlemen," he said. "Do you care for menus or chef's choice?" Charlie looked about the room.

"You girls feeling adventurous tonight?" Both nodded, and Charlie turned back to the waiter. "Whatever the chef is inclined to produce," he said. The waiter bowed and turned on his heel.

"So, Jo," Charlie continued. "Tell me about yourself." The two fell into lively conversation, leaving Eva and Darcy to converse among themselves.

"You don't talk much, do you?" she said simply.

"When among friends," he said, swirling his wine before taking a sip.

"And you have many, I take it."

"Enough." Eva fought back a sigh. This evening was going to be harder than she thought.

"Are you still in school, or…"

"I finished a few years ago."

"What do you do now?"

"I read." Eva scoffed.

"Do you have an opening? I wish that were in my future career."

"Perhaps, though we usually pick applicants out of primary school," he replied coolly. Eva swirled her wine.

"I'm working for my graduate degree, if you must know."

"I didn't ask." They were silent for a moment.

"Look," Eva said, leaning into the table. "I'm not exactly enthused to be in your company. I'm simply trying to make polite conversation, for the sake of the two sitting next to us. If I were alone, I would have thrown wine on what I assume is a phenomenally expensive suit but, as it is, I shall intend to be civil. I only request you do the same. Clear?" Darcy leaned in.

"Crystal." They spent a moment looking at each other- he really did have impossible eyes, deep and bottomless—before they were rescued by the return of the waiter. Eva leaned back in her chair and placed a napkin in her lap. Damn, she was starving.

* * *

Eva had been right to come hungry. Apparently, chef's choice had meant twelve courses of French awesome, including a zucchini soup with what she was pretty sure were Parisian baguettes and a parsley cream stew with chicken and penne. Darcy had loosened up a bit with the copious amounts of wine and, by the time a caramel panna cotta arrived, he had nearly smiled. Upon learning Eva was an English major, they had progressed to an all-encompassing discussion of books. He won points for his love of Victorian literature, though she was forced to deduct when he mentioned he had never been enticed to read American lit.

"I just don't see how you've gotten through school having never read Gatsby. Or Hemingway. And don't even get me started on Faulkner."

"It never really came up."

"I call foul on your entire education," Eva said, taking another swig of her wine.

They wrapped up the dinner with coffee, though it did little for Eva, who was, admittedly, somewhat of a lightweight. Charlie signed the check with a flourish as Jo left to go to the bathroom.

"Darce, you've gotta do me a favor."

"You mean on top of this evening?"

"Jo's….uh…Jo's coming back to my place, and Eva lives out in Brooklyn." They both looked at Eva, who appeared to have turned her napkin into a sort of origami hat.

"Yeah, she's not quite fit to drive, is she?"

"They took the subway here. Jo expressed some concern about her going home by herself."

"Say no more. Give me the keys," he said. Charlie begrudgingly handed them over.

"Be careful with my baby."

"Am I ever not?" Charlie rolled his eyes, handed him a slip of paper with an address, and turned to an arriving Jo. "Shall we go, my dear?" he took her arm, leaving Darcy with the inebriated mess.

"Come, darling," he said, reaching to grab her arm.

"No, I is fine. I don't need you."

"Of course not. Just play nice for the cameras."

"What cameras?" she asked earnestly. Darcy sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Just a figure of speech, no cameras."

"No cameras?"

"No cameras."

"Well, alright then," she said, popping up from under the table. Darcy hitched her to his arm and led her through the maze of tables. Eva tripped on a woman's coat, eliciting more than a few stares. Darcy mouthed an apology and hustled Eva outside, before tucking her into the Aston retrieved by the valet. Darcy threw a twenty in the general direction of the man before sliding behind the wheel. God, he loved that car.

"Me like car. Me like shiny fancy car," Eva said, running her fingers on the upholstery. She continued to mumble incoherent babble for a few minutes before passing out. Darcy slid into a parking spot, smile just barely burgeoning on his face, before going to retrieve the nearly comatose Eva from the passenger seat. He heaved her up the stairs, ignoring her comments on him smelling nice, and carried her to the apartment. He knocked a few times, sighing with relief when a woman with green streaks in her hair answered the door,

"Yes?" she asked.

"I believe I have something that belongs to you," he said.

"Every damn night," the girl mumbled under her breath. "I'll take her."

"Thanks," he said.

"I can walk by myself," Eva muttered, sauntering off into the hall and tripping over her own feet.

"You're good to leave," the girl said. Darcy bowed quickly and fled down the stairs.

"God," Maria said, picking Eva up off the ground. "I need to go to this coffee joint."

**Author's Note: I forgot how much I love writing the two of them. As always, please review. I really do love hearing from you guys. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	6. Monachopsis

_One Month Later_

Eva mopped the bar, scowling at Jo. God, she hated being cold. And Jo was just too damned happy, smiling about her work. She was humming. Humming, like a damned Disney princess.

"You are way too happy for such a godforsaken season," Eva said. Jo looked up.

"You really don't like winter, do you?"

"It's just so damned cold."

"You grew up like an hour from here. Aren't you used to it?"

"I never saw the point in getting used to it."

"A bit shortsighted, don't you think?" Jo asked. Eva rolled her eyes.

"Just because you love everything and are happy all the time and have a perfect boyfriend—"

"He is pretty perfect, isn't he?" she said dreamily. Jo and Charlie had…consummated their relationship after dinner that night and had been inseparable since. Jo had always been too happy for her own good, but ever since she had been matched with the sweetest of men, she had been nearly unbearable. Eva couldn't deny that she loved the girl, but she needed to find a boyfriend herself if she had to be around this all the time.

It was mostly quiet in The Den. Most of the writers were snuggled around the hearth, determined to forget the December drafts fluttering through their own apartments. Eva had put on three sweaters that morning in an attempt to be warm. It was failing miserably. She grumbled about her duties, though couldn't help smiling when stamping out the books. The Den had maintained a card catalogue with their library, despite the omnipresent trend moving towards digital systems. Eva had denoted herself president of dealing with the stamps, and found it endlessly satisfying to press ink into the withered old cards. She was considering having a nameplate made up. As the shop came into the afternoon lull, she pondered taking a nap. She heard Jo mutter something under her breath before her ears were overcome with inane chatter. Ah, the twins had decided to show up.

"Hey Jo, hey Eva," said Libba, a small yet forceful blonde creature of about twenty. "We've decided to rescue you from your hideous aprons and take you shopping, because your lives are miserable and we are absolutely determined to fix them."

"Lib, honey, we can't just leave," Eva said.

"Actually, you can." Eva heard. She groaned as she heard a clunk beside her. Vi had descended bearing a load of coffee mugs. "Nothing much is really happening here and, long as you're back by around six to deal with the evening rush and clean up, you're free to take a few hours off." Libba and Katie clapped their hands in glee, while Eva and Jo stifled their mumbles of apprehension.

"Come, get your things," Libba said. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I have so many things I want to show you, and we really haven't done anything together in ages. I miss you two so much. We just never really see each other—such a shame, really. Come on, hurry up. God. Oh this is going to be the best." Eva and Jo collected their belongings. As Eva pulled on her jacket, she looked at the girls.

"You guys brought Maria, yeah? You know she's not supposed to spend too much time alone in the house."

"Oh course we brought her," said Katie, rolling her eyes. "She's outside, having a smoke." Eva sighed and pushed open the door, pulling the cigarette from Maria's mouth.

"Come on, darling. I thought you quit."

"I quit having quit."

"You'll thank me one day."

"Thanks, mom," Maria said. She rubbed her hands together. "Bloody hell, it's cold."

"You're not even British," sang the twins.

"How nice it would be to be a whole ocean away from you two insolent twits." The twins laughed and ignored her. Maria cursed again and felt cold. The five girls meandered towards the subway, the twins leading the way.

* * *

The twins had deemed it appropriate that, since they were in Manhattan, they should go to one of the big department stores. They ignored Maria when she pointed out that they lived about twenty minutes away from Manhattan and being there was not a really big deal. They quickly decided upon Lord and Taylor and, on arriving, immediately flew off to wherever girls of their age shopped. Maria sauntered off to peruse lipstick and hair care, leaving Jo and Eva confused as to why they had been dragged along to start with.

They meandered through the store, Eva taking special time to peruse the winter coats, before eventually finding the twins gathering up matching metallic.

"Oh, Jo, don't you think this is just the cutest?" Libba asked. She didn't wait for a response. "I just love this whole metallic trend, it's so fun and fresh." Katie nodded her head vigorously.

"Didn't they do it like twenty years ago?" Eva asked.

"The whole vibe now is totally retro, Eva, right Jo? I mean, it's just so much fun!" Libba pranced into the dressing room, Katie following her.

"Jo, why are we even here?" Eva asked.

"What, in a cosmic sense?"

"Seriously. You make all your clothes. I spend all of my disposable income on books and steal clothes from you. This is less enjoyable than picking up after Roseanne."

"First off, Roseanne has gotten so much neater now that she's found a new shelter. And Vi was really doing her a nice thing—Actually, now that I think about it, I think they engineered the whole-"

"Jo, tangents. Are we allowed to leave?"

"They really do love you, you know. They just want to spend time with you and they don't really know how to do it."

"Clearly," Eva said, cocking her head towards the loud giggles coming from the dressing room.

"Be nice, please, and feign some enthusiasm," Jo said. Eva groaned.

"I'm gonna go find Maria."

"Suit yourself."

Eva walked through the maze of racks in an attempt to find the escalator. She hated these big department stores, much as she hated fitting into that stereotype. It was some mix of misbegotten hipster individuality and disdain for the corporate world, but she would much prefer to peruse tiny shops in which her purchases actually did something more than inflate a nameless corporation's bottom line. That said, she was too broke to stick to her morals and really needed a new winter coat, though she figured this wasn't exactly the place to find bargains either.

She tried on assorted jackets, ranging from North Face puff monsters to distressed leather. Once she saw the pea coats, she lost her appetite for shopping and continued on her quest for Maria. She would ask Jo to make her something.

She found Maria pouting into a mirror, a dark maroon on her lips.

"Like the look," Eva said. "Very vampire-chic." Maria looked at her.

"Good classic blood-sucky vampire in Marilyn white or bad low-budget CW vampire in something Libba would wear?"

"Good one. So," Eva said, propping herself on a makeup stool. "How's it going?"

"How's what going?"

"Whatever it is that you do."

"Eh, pretty good. Internet's being fun. Season three of Sherlock is filming, so, you know. We're excited."

"Sherlock? Like not the Downey Jr one?"

"Correct."

"Is it good?"

"One of the greatest things to ever be recorded on film. You know that guy in the glass cage in the new star trek promos, the one who isn't Chris Pine?"

"Sure."

"Yeah, he's in it. So's the hobbit. It's very good."

"Sounds like it," Eva replied. Maria called the salesperson over and began to speak in hushed tones over the chemical intricacies of lip liner. Eva was bored. Bored. And she didn't even have a book. She resigned herself to twiddling her thumbs and thinking of things to throw at Darcy should she be forced to see him again.

Eventually, the girls collected themselves. The twins wrestled with large bags that must have weighed about the same as them. Jo offered to help and was promptly loaded with the majority of the purchases. It was a quick subway ride back to the coffee shop and, with a fervent wave goodbye, the twins disappeared with Maria in tow.

Eva put her apron back on, preparing to mop the counter and shoo out the regulars. Jo was in the back room, organizing the mugs.

"Hey, Eva," she heard. She looked up.

"Charlie, hi."

"You guys take the afternoon off?"

"Yeah, had to take the munchkins out shopping. You miss us?"

"Fervently," he said with a smile. "Jo in the back?"

"Yeah, dealing with mugs. Head on back if you dare." He gave her a nod as he ducked behind the counter and joined Jo, shutting the door to the supply closet. Eva glanced around the main sitting room. Just the usual assortment, though—no. Son of a bitch. She walked over to the man with the orange pea coat draped over his chair. He looked up at her.

"Why are you here?"

"Simply accompanying my friend." He sipped his coffee.

"Where did you get that?"

"The lovely woman at the front. Any chance I could get a…" His eyes searched her face and, finding only discontent, looked down at his book. "Perhaps not."

"I thought you hated me."

"Don't pat yourself on the back. I'm here for Charlie's sake. He's being brave and needed someone to force him into it."

"What's he doing?"

"It's not my place to tell. Besides," he said, looking behind her. "Jo should be along to tell you any second." He stood, wrapping himself in the coat. "Good day, Eva," he said, by way of valediction. Eva turned to watch him leave. Shuddering, she cleared his table and made her way back to the bar. Jo pounced on her immediately.

"You won't believe what's just happened."

"Should I guess?"

"Charlie's taking me on a vacation. And he said you could come."

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Please," Charlie said, making an entrance. "There's plenty of room. We'd love to have you."

"Come on, Eva," Jo said. "You'd love it. It's somewhere warm." Eva raised her eyebrows.

"How warm?"

"Warmer than here, what else matters?" Jo said, wrapping her arms around her friend. "Come on, it's be so much fun." Eva looked at Charlie.

"If you're sure it's no trouble…"

"Of course not. Plenty of room on the plane, plenty of room in the house."

"Well, when you put it like that," Eva said.

"Oh, I'm so excited," said Jo. "I was worried he wasn't going to have anything to do, but—" she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"What did you say?"

"Absolutely nothing," Jo replied. "Ok, I simply must deal with the inventory. Eva, don't back out, it'll be so much fun." She gave Charlie a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight," she whispered as she walked away, shutting the door behind her. Charlie grinned cheekily.

"You really don't hate him that much, do you?" Eva humphed.

"I'm only going because you asked so nicely, and you'd be positively distraught without my company."

"Of course, darling. And it has nothing to do with the fact that it's supposed to hit near zero in the next few weeks."

"How dare you insinuate I dislike the cold," she responded, though her statement was contested by her shivers of chill. Charlie laughed.

"I really am terribly excited you're coming," he said. "It'll be so much fun."

**Author's Note: Sorry I missed a week, I was spontaneously without internet. It was terrible. Feel free to review, I love talking to y'all. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	7. Semaphorism

_One Week Later_

"Ugh, you have no idea how jealous I am."

"Actually, I think I might. You've been bitching for how long?" Libba groaned and banged her head against the wall.

"Why do you get to meet all the cute rich boys who spontaneously take you to the Caribbean?"

"Because I did something brilliant to my karma in a past life. Besides, I have to deal with Darcy. And I have to spend my birthday there."

"Have to deal, she says. Please, he sounds gorgeous."

"He called me tolerable."

"It's not an 'ugly'."

"He said I was tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt him."

"I don't believe he actually said that."

"He might not have, but that's not the point. He's just…ugh. I can't explain it."

"Drop dead gorgeous?"

"He's not actually that pretty."

"Uh, hon? Yeah he is."

"Libba, shut up. Besides, it's not like you could even go. You have class."

"Yeah, what about you? We go to the same school, I don't even understand how you're able to go."

"Beauty of grad school. Since I'm basically just doing thesis work now with a few classes thrown in, I took my finals early and get an extra week off.

"That is utter bull-shi—"

"Bye Libba!" Eva said, closing the door behind her. Her room was small, but reasonable enough when she was alone. Her unmade bed was pushed in a corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A tiny writing desk covered in loose sheets of paper was perched under the tiniest of windows, but it looked out onto the street, and there were some trees there. She sighed, flopping down on the bed, nearly banging her knees on the wall. She hated packing, she couldn't find anything resembling a swimsuit, and she'd nearly filled her ratty suitcase with books. She sighed. She'd never thought she would actually have to go shopping twice in two weeks.

"Jo, I hate you. I hate you and your stupid boyfriend and your stupid boyfriend's stupid friend and I hate—"

"Me? Eva, you just need to calm down. Just buy something cute and that'll be that." Eva contorted her face into something unrecognizable.

"Can we just agree that swimsuit shopping is the worst kind of shopping?"

"I think it's widely acknowledged. Here," she said, pulling something from a rack. "This is cute."

"Salmon's not really my color."

"Yeah," Jo said softly. "What about this?"

"Floral. I like the way you think, woman." The girls perused the racks some more, Eva loading her arms with more swimsuits than could be physically worn in a week and a half. She eventually settled on some floral bandeaus, a patchwork two-piece, and a few assorted nautical things that seemed appropriate. Jo, taking full advantage of the position she had Eva in, offered to buy her a few dresses and pairs of shorts, you know, while they were out and all. Eva grudgingly acquiesced, giving into a few maxi dresses and something made out of eyelet. They talked easily as they walked home, about class and the like. Eva found it easy to be with Jo, relaxing. Of course, she drove her crazy most of the time—Eva wasn't exactly a people person—but she was nice enough to be near sometimes. They picked up Chinese on the way back to the apartment.

"We're back," Jo shouted, dropping her keys into the bowl by the door and kicking her shoes into the closet. Libba and Katie tumbled out of their room dressed in metallic and clinging heels.

"We gotta eat quick, we're going out with some guys from class."

"Say no more. Can you two go set the table?" The twins grumbled but did as told. "Hey, Eva. Have you seen Maria?"

"Not today."

"Libba, Katie! Have you seen Maria?"

"She's around somewhere," said Katie. "Where would she go?"

"Eva, go find her please. Tell her dinner's ready." Jo was very big on family dinner. She hadn't had too much of a family growing up, though Eva didn't really know much. Jo wasn't big on sharing her innermost feelings.

Eva kicked off her shoes and stumbled around, tripping on the new rug Jo thought added ambience. Eva hated the damn thing. It got in the way of her sock sliding.

She knocked on Maria's door.

"Maria? You in there?" Eva knocked again. The door gave in and creaked open. It was dark inside, save for a whitish light coming from the bed. A pair of illuminated eyes looked up.

"What do you want?"

"Dinner. Come on." Maria sighed and stood, shielding her eyes as she walked into the hall.

"Why do you fools insist upon it being so damned bright?"

"So us normal humans can see. What was on?"

"Found a sweet list of Supernatural links, all Putlocker. Want me to send it to you?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Eh, your loss."

"Go get something to drink."

"Ok, MOM," she said, walking away. Eva smiled. Jo called for everyone to sit down. The twins bubbled around, heaping lo mein and twittering amongst themselves. Maria played with her chopsticks, massacring broccoli florets while browsing tumblr under the table. Jo attempted conversation with everyone but, finding the twins occupied and Maria unresponsive, settled for discussing the trip with Eva.

"We leave tomorrow. You excited?"

"Sort of," Eva said, pushing a piece of chicken around her plate.

"Why 'sort of'?"

"It's just… Darcy."

"Why do you hate him so much, besides the fact that he hasn't read Gatsby?"

"Come on, how can you have existed and not read Gatsby? It's like the quintessential book of ever."

"You're sanctifying literature again."

"I'm allowed, I'm nearly a doctor of English. I'm like six seconds away from a fancy piece of paper that lets me lie and still be right."

"Time well spent," Jo said, popping a mushroom into her mouth. "Come on, you guys should be best friends. He does something in books, I think."

"Of course he's a writer," Eva mumbled under her breath. "Shame I haven't read anything he's written. I'd assume he's been published in every journal under the sun. His glistening brilliance makes waves in the proverbial pool of artistic integrity. He shines new light on the modern novel. Anyone would be luck to dare touch the stick after he finally pulls it out of his –"

"Eva, come on. I'm just saying, you guys might actually have something in common. Besides, I don't think he's a writer. He does something, though."

"I should congratulate him on his accomplishments."

"Ok, lemme phrase this differently. Eva, can you please play nice with the mean man so I can spend time with mine."

"If you are in any way suggesting some sort of double date situation…"

"Of course not. I picked the only man worth dating." Eva's jaw dropped as Jo took a sip of her wine.

"You hate him too, don't you?"

"Hate is a strong word, Ms. English Major, you shouldn't throw it around willy nilly."

"I'm going to kill you in the night."

"Then you wouldn't get to go somewhere warm."

"I'm going to kill you in the night in two weeks when we have to come back to the frozen wasteland."

"And for a minute I thought you were losing your touch with words," Jo said. Eva stuck her tongue out. The two made small talk while finishing the potstickers. The twins cleared their plates and made an escape. In the flurry of metallic, Maria retreated to her room, leaving Eva and Jo to finish the wine and the clean up. They started on the first. Eva promptly became a touch more sentimental.

"Jo, I'm just so happy for you."

"I didn't know you possessed the capability for happiness. I thought they left it out of the blueprint," Jo mused with a smile.

"No, it's just, you're my friend. And I love you, and I don't tell you that enough."

"Alright champ, maybe it's time to put the bottle away."

"Jo, I love you. You mah BFF. I mean, you saved me."

"I got you an apartment with some bubbly twins. I don't think that really counts as saving you."

"I was living with Shane. Shane Collins." Eva hiccoughed. "And you rescued me. He was AWFUL. He was so short, and trust me, his height was not the only thing short about him." She hiccoughed again. "You got me out of there, girl. I love you."

"Alright, honey," Jo said, lifting Eva up and carrying her to her room. "Time for bed." Eva promptly fell asleep. Jo returned to the kitchen to finish the dishes.

The next day, Eva and Jo woke up, ate a leisurely breakfast, remembered the day's plans, and frantically finished packing. The girls put themselves together and choked down a cup of coffee, finishing just after nine, when the boys were due to pick them up. They arrived exactly on time. An exuberant Charlie drew Jo into a passionate kiss while Eva finished her coffee and Darcy scuffed the toe of his boot into the floor. He was still wearing that damned pea coat.

Jo walked Charlie into the living room, presumably to show him one of her current masterpieces, leaving Eva and Darcy to look at each other.

"I believe I'm supposed to offer you coffee," she said by way of an introduction.

"No, thank you."

"I'm glad you passed kindergarten manners class." He raised his brows.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. I like the coat. Sit down, you're making everyone uncomfortable."

"I wasn't aware I had an audience," he said, drawing out the chair.

"Figure of speech," she said, "Or close enough to it. So, how are you to spend your days on the beach."

"Mostly inside, I'm guessing. Lots of reading to do."

"Please, it's the perfect thing to do next to the water. What's even the point of flying down there if you're just staying inside?" Darcy began to answer but was interrupted by Charlie, who was grinning like a fool.

"You two lovebirds ready?" he asked. Jo giggled as Eva rolled her eyes.

"Amusing as ever, Charlie. Glad to see you," she said, standing and giving him a hug. The boys insisted upon hauling the suitcases down the stairs, leaving the girls to turn off the lights and remind Maria not to play with the stove. They met them down by the curb, where Charlie was eagerly piling suitcases into the back of an Audi as Darcy stood and stared at the ground.

"Ooh," Eva said, running to the car. "Shiny. You keep a car in the city?"

"A few of them, remember?" Charlie said. Eva looked at him quizzically. "Huh, he said, scratching his head. "I guess you were pretty lit."

"The other one's an Aston," Jo offered, "though it would seem a bit impractical given the circumstances."

"Fair enough," Eva replied. The four piled into the car, Jo and Charlie nestling in the back and cooing at each other, leaving Darcy and Eva to attempt polite conversation. She started with the usual tricks of weather and politics but found him unresponsive. She figured she had picked boring subject matter to begin with and stayed quiet until Darcy took an unfamiliar turn.

"This isn't how you get to JFK."

"We aren't going to JFK."

"Darcy refuses to fly commercial," Charlie said. "And for some ungodly reason he keeps the jet in Westchester."

"You know why I keep the jet in Westchester, Charlie."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, Eva, you'd better settle in. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us."

Eva took Charlie's suggestion as an opportunity to fall asleep.

She woke up just as Darcy pulled into a hangar. She got out of the car, attempted to shake life into her sleepy legs, and nearly fell over. Darcy stifled a giggle, though Eva didn't hear him. Jo and Charlie proceeded to fall out of the car, Jo smoothing her hair while Charlie straightened his jacket. A man in a fluorescent coat skittered over to the car and began to unload bags, dragging them to a small but impossibly shiny plane—Eva couldn't help but stare. She knew absolutely nothing about planes, preferring to live in a falsely created Victorian England, but this one was pretty. The man in the fluorescent jacket began to usher Charlie and the girls to the plane. Darcy was conversing with a man in a navy coat and rather excellent hat. As they walked by to board, Eva heard the mumblings of a conversation.

"So, how's Georgie doing?"

"As well as can be expected, given the circumstances. She's with her mother now." The man gave him a clap on the back.

"It'll all work out. It always does."

"I hope so," Darcy said. Seeing the others, he clammed up and turned. "Cal, you've met Charlie. That's Jo, his girlfriend, and Eva, Jo's close friend. This is, uh, Captain Zoller, a man to whom I owe my life."

"He overstates it. Call me Cal," he said, reaching out a hand. Eva took it eagerly.

"I love the plane, she'd gorgeous."

"We try to take care of her," Cal said with a smile.

"I know absolutely nothing about planes. Cars are more my specialty. I actually had a few questions. So, tell me, is it actually true that if you…" Eva blabbered on to Cal as they boarded the plane, leaving Jo, Charlie, and Darcy on the tarmac.

"At least try to smile, Darce," Charlie said before putting an arm around Jo and walked up the steps. Darcy ran a hand through his hair and swore quietly.

**Author's Note: Everyone's favorite plot device, the Caribbean Vacation. Love y'all. **

**Best wishes,**

**Zoe**


	8. Gaudiére

By the time Darcy had collected himself and wandered onto the plane, Jo and Charlie had settled themselves on the couch, Eva had sprawled across a loveseat, and Cal had settled himself in the pilot's chair.

"If y'all are ready…" Cal shouted back to them. Everyone nodded and Darcy gave a thumbs-up. Cal tipped his hat and closed the pilot's door. The engines spun to life and the plane began to taxi onto the runway. Darcy sat down across the aisle from Eva, pulling out a book and beginning to read. An hour passed quietly, take-off proving uneventful. Darcy informed everyone that the galley was open for everyone to help themselves. Jo and Charlie immediately popped a bottle of champagne, toasting to whatever they thought appropriate. Eva took a flute and left it mostly untouched. Darcy preferred not to drink at all. Soon, Jo and Charlie had knocked themselves out. Cal had holed up in the cockpit, leaving Eva and Darcy to amuse themselves. Neither talked for a while. After the first hour, Eva went back to find some food. She poked her head out of the galley.

"Dude, you have Kinder Bueno in here?" Darcy looked up.

"Excuse me?"

"Kinder Bueno, God's gift to human kind. You have it on the plane?"

"So it would seem."

"Dude, awesome." She grabbed a pack and meandered back to her seat. She rethought sitting down and moved to sit across from Darcy. Tolstoy was proving a bit rough. "So, how's life?"

"Adequate."

"Don't sound to excited about it." She bit into the candy bar, letting a small sigh escape her lips. "I haven't had one of these in years. You just skyrocketed to my favorite person in the universe. A very prestigious award, I'll have you know." Darcy raised an eyebrow. "And I love the plane. Is it really yours?"

"Yes."

"Ugh, so jealous. You can just go wherever you want."

"It's mostly for corporate reasons, not pleasure."

"Still, it's gotta be awesome to just up and go to the BVIs." Darcy put down the book.

"If you're looking to distract yourself from _War and Peace, _I keep a small library in the galley. You're welcome to help yourself," he said. Eva groaned.

"To think how nice it would have been to be civil on this trip," she said, taking her candy bar and returning to her seat. She got up only to have lunch.

* * *

The landing was slightly bumpy but all considered, Eva thought Cal had done an excellent job. He'd been excellent too, dealing with all her questions and allaying her nerves. She had never really liked flying; it had always made her nervous. Something about breathing other people's air. But the four hours had passed relatively quickly and Eva found herself staring out into the water, pondering the man sitting quietly on the other side of the plane. Yes, she hated him, the rat bastard. Couldn't even carry a bloody conversation. Didn't even try. Evil, evil man, though he did have a pretty plane. She tried not to think about that. It was easier.

She would get through the next two weeks, and that would be that. She would do it for Jo. Though, when she got off the plane, she was damn happy she'd made the sacrifice. Cal had mentioned that it had been warmer than usual down here, in the mid-80s as opposed to the normal 70s. Eva couldn't have been happier to hear the news. She stretched out her legs. It was warm and humid and absolutely opposite of New York. She couldn't have asked for a better vacation. Unless, of course, they'd had the foresight to leave Darcy and his inherent desire to be miserable at home.

Cal and Charlie unloaded the bags, piling them into a waiting car. Darcy left to deal with the owning of a plane. Jo and Eva were left to their own devices for a few moments. Eva fished in her backpack for a pair of sunglasses.

"So, are you happy you came?"

"Jo, you have the most excellent taste in boyfriends and I am prepared to remind you of that at all times. As to your boyfriend's choice in friends, I'm slightly less impressed."

"Was he really that bad?"

"You people fell asleep like ten minutes after we took off. I had to sit and deal with him for like three and a half hours. He's physically incapable of talking to anyone using more than six words. He's utterly impossible and I absolutely hate him."

"So don't talk to him."

"I didn't. Because he was being a little bitch."

"Hey, he did let us use his plane."

"Please stop being the voice of reason, Jo. I just want to hate a man without you interfering." Jo put her hands up to signify surrender. Charlie came and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"You girls ready?"

"Absolutely," Eva said, flipping on her sunglasses. "I can't wait to see this place of yours."

"Oh, you're gonna love it," he said. Darcy finished his business with the airport officials and joined them in the car. Jo and Charlie monopolized the back seat, leaving Eva and Darcy in the front.

"So," Eva said, attempting conversation. "Do you always drive?"

"Mostly." Eva groaned. She was done, and settled on spending the rest of the drive staring out the window. Tortola was gorgeous, blue skies with puffy clouds, sea air blowing into the car. She was tempted to beg Charlie for permanent living space and move down here. They drove for about half an hour before parking at a dock.

"You're shitting me," Eva said. "You have an island?"

"It's a small one," Charlie replied.

"Can I hug you?"

"Of course you can." Eva wrapped her arms around him. "You are my favorite man in the universe." Darcy rolled his eyes, going to unload the trunk. He and Charlie dealt with the bags, shooing the girls and telling them to walk to the end of the dock. They did, finding a gorgeous Cobalt.

"This just gets better and better," exhaled Eva. Jo could barely speak.

"Are you sure this is right?" Eva shouted back to the boys.

"Unless someone took mine, should be correct," Charlie said, coming down the walk. "Yep, that looks about right. Ladies, after you." Eva clambered aboard, throwing herself on the couch. The other three followed in suit. Charlie went to start the boat while Darcy untied the mooring lines and pushed the boat from the dock. They picked up speed and were soon flying across the water. Jo went to sit with Charlie at the helm, leaving Darcy and Eva to glower at each other until they reached to house. It was a quick boat ride, maybe forty minutes. They eased next to the dock, parking opposite a dingy and a rather nice sailing yacht. Darcy jumped onto the dock to tie them down.

"Ladies," Charlie said. "Welcome to Netherfield."

Netherfield was, in a word, absolutely and entirely stunning. The island was fairly small, though considering it belonged to the man Jo was dating, it was rather impressive. The dock ran from the water up to the house, passing the cleanest beach Eva had ever seen. Palm trees gathered around the house in a small forest, and the house itself was the prettiest thing Eva had ever seen, though she wasn't entirely sure she could call it a house. It was two stories high with several balconies and painted entirely white. A porch in the front had a few wicker chairs, and Eva had to physically stop herself from running inside to explore. Far too slowly for her taste, they meandered up to the door. Charlie unlocked it and pushed it open, letting Eva run free. It was just as gorgeous inside. Most everything was white and wicker, marble floors and beech wood. Most of the rooms were big and open, with large windows catering to the phenomenal vistas. A marble staircase led to the second floor, up which Charlie and Darcy were currently lugging the bags. Eva squinted and walked forwards.

"There's a pool too? Holy shit, there's a pool too. Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I go swimming?"

"Mi casa es su casa. Do what you wish, but let me show you your room" he replied. Eva squeaked a thanks and followed him up the stairs.

"Here you are," he said pushing open a door. The room was large, but entirely and deliciously simple. A white king size bed sat in the center, a closet and chest of drawers hung to the side. The only decoration came from some amazingly large prints of sea life. Eva had a parrotfish hanging out over her bed. She went to throw open the curtains, discovering a balcony with a lounge chair that faces out on the ocean. In the distance, she could see Tortola but, more interestingly, could see the pool and beach just below her window.

"I'll leave you to it," Charlie said.

"Thank you, Charlie. Really, thanks so much. For all of this."

"It's no trouble," he replied easily. "Enjoy your swim." He shut the door behind him and turned to Darcy, who was leaning against the wall and staring at him.

"What?" Charlie asked. Darcy rolled his eyes and turned away.

* * *

Eva was in total and utter bliss. She could get used to this.

After Charlie had left her, she had flopped onto the bed. It was warm and comfy and everything a bed needed to be. Good. She briefly unpacked, throwing most of her belongings into the dresser. She went to go brush her teeth and almost fell over when she saw the bathroom. About half as big as the more than adequate room, white marble steps led to the biggest sunken tub Eva had ever seen. Planning to spend several hours there over the course of the next two weeks, Eva slipped into a bathing suit and threw on a sarong. As ridiculous as she felt, she could easily get into the island atmosphere.

Barefoot, she grabbed her sunglasses and her book (she switched from Tolstoy to Meg Cabot. After all, she was on vacation) and headed downstairs. The marble was cool under her feet, veined and textured. She loved it. She wandered out to the pool. As if the main house wasn't big enough, there was another, smaller cabana-esque building. She walked over, eager to explore. It was open on one wall, facing out to the beach. It was full of everything. Just from the quick glance she afforded herself, Eva saw kayaks, fins, and something she could have sworn was a jet ski. She laughed to herself; of course they had a jet ski. She walked back to one of the lounge chairs and settled in, opening her book. She sighed. Everything was perfect. Life was excellent. All she needed was a-

"Margarita?" she heard from behind her. She sat up and turned. Sweet Jesus. There was Darcy. Pale, toned, Adonis-esque Darcy in Ray-Bans holding two margaritas with a book tucked under his bare arm. No, she hated this man. She would not stare at the navy board shorts that were just a touch too short, that clung to his hips just a touch too low. She would not look at the well-formed arms, the grapefruit sized biceps, the lean legs that led to rather…uh…large feet. She wouldn't dare peek at the thin ribbons of muscle just forming the lean beginnings of a six-pack. No, she wouldn't dare. He was Satan.

"You're an angel," she said, reaching for the glass. "Thanks." He didn't respond, but merely sat in another lounge chair.

"I take it Charlie and Jo are otherwise occupied," Eva said. He nodded. She shook her head in the vaguest fit of anger and went back to her book.

They sat for a few hours, Darcy growing brown, Eva growing red. At last, Eva hit boiling point and felt the need for a swim. She stood, slipping her sarong from her body and letting down her hair. She placed her sunglasses on top of her book and ran at the pool, jumping into a perfect dive. The water was bliss, warm and soft. She had always loved water, ever since she was little. She surfaced, loud laughter burbling from her throat. She swam to the shallow end, resting her elbows on the edge of the pool and staring off into the ocean. It was phenomenal. She swam back to the deep end and hoisted herself out of the pool. She looked at Darcy, who was staring at her with something resembling disdain. He shook his head and looked back down at his book. She scoffed and settled in to enjoy the rest of the afternoon sun.

* * *

He couldn't stand her being there. She was driving him mad. Completely and utterly mad. He cursed Charlie for bullying him into this. He couldn't be around her for this long. He wasn't sure he could last that long.

After making Charlie sufficiently uncomfortable, he had wandered back to his room. He had always loved Netherfield; he and Charlie had come when they were boys at school together. Charlie had remembered his favorite room and kept it saved for him. He slung his bag onto the bed and walked out onto the balcony. Perhaps if he avoided her, he could stand to be here, but he knew he couldn't avoid her. He didn't want to avoid her. He wanted to cradle her, to nest his chin in the hollow of her throat, to run his fingers down her collarbone and press his lips to hers. He shook the thought from his mind and resigned himself to sitting on his balcony and getting some work done. He had nearly managed it until he saw her walk out into the pool. She was stunning, perfectly formed. He couldn't stand it, couldn't resist. He threw on an old suit and walked downstairs. God, did he need a drink.

He threw in an extra shot of tequila for himself and carried the glasses out. Call it a peace offering, he figured to himself. He had been sort of an ass recently.

She thanked him too fervently for him to comfortably respond, so he nodded and sat down. She was too gorgeous. How had he thought this was a good idea? He buried himself in the current manuscript and attempted to forget about the woman sitting beside him.

It worked for a few hours, until she'd stood up. Until she'd pulled that strip of fabric from her body and flung herself into the water. Until she'd laughed like a child and swam, kicking one porcelain leg after the other. She had perched herself on the edge of the pool. Her shoulders poked out, small ridges in her skin. Another place he wanted to feel, wanted to taste. He couldn't help but stare, disbelief twitching on his lips. She was perfect. And…shit. She was looking at him.

She must be used to this, he thought to himself. Used to the attention. He was just another scumbag that she would have to beat off with a stick. Hell, he wasn't into domination, but he'd probably enjoy that. No. No he wouldn't. He wouldn't think of her like that. This had happened way too fast. Jesus, what the hell was the matter with him? She was a child, a beautiful and untouchable child, and he had more important things to deal with.

**Author's Note: This is actually the best to write. Hope y'all are enjoying it! Actually, hope you don't mind the Darcy POV. He's a nice break.**

**Much love and best wishes,**

**Zoe**


	9. Deep Cut

Eva hauled herself out of the tub with genuine sadness. She'd never been so relaxed. Bubbles actually came out of the tap pre-mixed, and everything smelled like coconut and pineapple. After her dip in the pool, she had stayed in her chair to fry some more. She would start with sunscreen tomorrow. Darcy had gotten her another margarita, though she'd requested he just bring the tequila. She could have sworn he had smiled. Eventually, she had gotten a little chilly and figured she should probably dress for dinner. Happy to bid adieu to Darcy and his misery, she flounced upstairs and drew herself a bath. After paddling around in the gargantuan tub, she stood and pulled the drain. She dried herself off and wrapped herself up in the silk robe she took with her everywhere. She grabbed her brush and went to sit on the balcony. The sun was just setting, the clouds filigreed in gold. Soft rose melted into azure and seagulls circled lazily in the sky. She heard the waves crashing on the beach and felt the salt in her lungs. She sighed, deep exhales as she ran a brush through her long curls. She tucked her legs up under her. Everything was absolutely perfect.

She heard a knock and turned.

"Come in," she called out. The door opened slowly.

"Eva? Time for dinner."

"Thanks, I'll be down soon," she said. The door closed quietly. Eva sighed. Of course it had been Darcy to come ruin her perfect moment.

* * *

That was it; he was done dealing with her. He couldn't stand it anymore. She was an angel. Perfect in every sense. He'd caught her as she was getting out of the shower, short robe still clinging to her slender legs. Her hair hung down her back, tendrils of her chestnut locks curling and coalescing and shining in the fading light. Her cheeks were rosy from the steam and, with the sun behind her, golden shafts seemingly emanating from her very being, he could have sworn she was something celestial. He wished to transcend his mortal form to be with her, to join her in immortal happiness.

He shook himself out of it. He couldn't think like that. He simply couldn't. He was not a man to fall that easy. Besides, she hated him.

He fled down the stairs, boat shoes tapping against the marble. The housekeeper was preparing dinner, so that much should have been easy. He found Charlie and Jo sipping cocktails by the pool.

"Hey, Darce. I made your favorite."

"You are sent from heaven." Darcy took a deep drink before pouring in some extra rum.

"How's it going?" Jo asked. "You and Eva have fun this afternoon?"

"We simply read all afternoon."

"He makes for stimulating company," he heard her say. He turned. God dammit. He couldn't take this anymore. She wore a blue dress of Grecian influence, with a gilded ivy headband tucked in a plaited updo. Her feet were bare. Darcy downed the rest of his drink.

"That impossible, am I?" Eva asked laughingly. "Here, lemme try one of those." Charlie handed one over.

"Awesome, aren't they?" Jo asked.

"Delicious," Eva said. "What are they?"

"Rum and ginger beer. In Bermuda, they call 'em a Dark 'N' Stormy."

"You have fine taste, good sir. This is excellent."

"Ladies and… well, as close to a gentleman as we can procure on such short notice, shall we retire to the dining room?" There was a vehement nod from the ladies, while the near-enough gentleman merely poured himself some rum. All four moved inside.

The dining room, much like the rest of the house, was sparsely decorated. Large windows left all the decoration to be done by the stunning vistas around them, which were nearly more beautiful in the moonlight. The food was excellent, fresh seafood that the housekeeper said was caught this morning. They feasted on ceviche, conch, and something that no one could quite identify. Altogether, it was entirely delicious, though she perhaps should have slowed her rum consumption. But how often was she really going to find herself in paradise? She might as well have a little fun.

"We should dance," she said, standing from the table. "We should dance on the beach. Oh, that would be so much fun. Charlie, please." Charlie laughed. "Whatever the lady desires," he said, wiping at his mouth. "What shall we dance to?"

"Oh, I hadn't gotten that far yet. Music."

"I'm afraid the collection here is perhaps a little outdated. Most all we have are old CDs from my parents, and we never got around to making it iPod capable—" "I don't even care. The waves are enough music for me," Eva said, running out to the sand.

"Then it's settled," Charlie said. "It'll be like our own little ball. Jo?" he said, holding out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

"You most certainly may," she replied. "Good luck, Darcy," she called behind her. He sighed and scratched his head. Then again, he probably should have been thankful. He walked out to the beach. Jo had tucked her head against Charlie's chest, and the two were softly conversing. Eva was wandering about the sand, water lapping at her ankles. She turned as he approached.

"Oh, you. Well, I'll guess you'll have to do." She stepped toward him, wrapping his arm around her back. "Here," she said. "Do this."

"I've danced before, Eva," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back and letting her hand rest on his shoulder. She was tiny, tinier than he'd noticed before. She was at least a foot shorter than him, maybe more. Then again, he was fairly tall. She smelled nice, like coconut and cucumber. But he couldn't think like this. He tried not to let himself.

The waves crashed under their feet—he'd had the foresight to take off his shoes. She had laid her head against his chest, and he hoped she couldn't hear his heart beating faster.

"Darcy, you's a good dancer."

"Thank you."

"Can I go to bed now? I's sleepy." They had danced for maybe twenty minutes, though the time had gone too quickly for Darcy.

"Of course, darling." He turned to walk back inside.

"Darcy? I don't think I can walk too good." He sighed, though he wasn't upset. Quite the contrary. He lifted her up and carried her inside. He gently plucked the headband from her hair and unbraided it, letting it lay over the pillow. He brushed the sand from her feet and dried her legs. The door shut quietly behind him.

* * *

Eva mixed herself a Bloody Mary the next morning at breakfast. Darcy gave her a look over the newspaper. God, how was he so well dressed at ten in the morning. He must have been European somewhere in there, because all of his clothes fit way too well. A black v-neck that was just tight enough to show the definition in his pecs, a pair of olive green board shorts that were (sadly) longer than those yesterday, and his ever-present boat shoes. What was his thing about shoes on vacation? Eva couldn't even bring herself to contemplate it. She rolled her eyes and grabbed a croissant. Apparently, someone delivered two rounds of groceries to Netherfield, fresh bread and fruit around 7 in the morning, fish and booze around 3 in the afternoon. Eva made a mental note to request more ginger beer and investigate the possibility of a Diet Coke. Charlie walked in, scratching his head.

"Morning," she said brightly, nearly giving herself a headache. "Where's Jo?"

"She's not feeling too great, so she's sleeping in a bit. She said she'd try to join us for lunch." Charlie slumped into a chair and groaned, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Eva, that looks awesome. Wanna make me one of those?"

"With pleasure," she said, puttering around the bar. It was the least she could do, considering he'd purchased the alcohol to begin with. "So, Charlie. What's there to do around here, besides eat and drink? I have a figure to maintain." Darcy shuddered, though she didn't notice.

"There's really rocking snorkeling off of the south beach, the one we came up near. The reefs are sort of amazing, that's where all the prints come from."

"Well, I know what I'm doing today."

"Snorkels are in the pool house. There's scuba stuff too, if you're so inclined. It's a lovely birthday activity."

"Ugh, she told you."

"What's the big number?"

"25, it's not that big a deal."

"Please, we should celebrate."

"Please, don't do anything about it. I should thank you just for letting me stay here. So, scuba diving. I never got around to being certified, but I've heard it's awesome," she said, taking a slurp of her drink.

"It's pretty great. I never did it either, I think Darce is the only one who actually uses the stuff. There's a great shipwreck about half a mile out. You can take the dingy, but he always swims, the athletic bastard. He says it's only worth appreciating if you take a tank."

"You put words in my mouth, Charles," Darcy said, turning the page of his paper.

"Sorry, cardinal sin and all. Jesus, you're on vacation, man. Put the paper down and enjoy yourself."

"I'd rather stay informed," he replied. Of course he would, Eva thought. The bastard. He couldn't take a day off in his life if he tried.

"Of course you would, you crazy bastard," Charlie said, taking a sip of the drink Eva had just handed him. "Darling, I must keep you around at all times, if only to make me drinks."

"Consider it gratitude," she replied. "I really can't thank you enough for all of, well, this."

"Please, I'm just glad to have someone around who appreciates it. My family's had this place for years, and I tend to lose sight of how magnificent it is."

"I can't imagine anyone ever gets tired of it," she said, looking out the window.

"I'm happy to share it," Charlie said.

"Oh, I can't stand it," Eva said, downing her drink. "I'm going swimming. I still haven't been in the ocean yet, apart from my feet last night. Anyone care to join me?" she asked.

"Perhaps in a moment, I need to nurse off the rest of my headache real quick."

"Suit yourself, thanks for brekkie," she said, running up the stairs. Charlie waved after her, then turned to his friend, who looked up at him.

"What?" Darcy asked.

"You know what."

"I have no idea to what you are referring."

"You have to admit, she isn't as bad as you thought she would be."

"From a physical perspective, she's satisfying enough," he said, turning a page. Charlie laughed, shaking his head.

"Dude, you are missing out."

Tell a man something he didn't know.

* * *

Eva bounded up the stairs with the enthusiasm of a child. She'd always loved water. Her father had always been adamant that there were certain skills everyone had to have: swimming, Spanish, and driving stick, though she'd never quite succeeded with the last one. So, when Eva was little, she'd been put in swim lessons. She hated it at first, all cold and chlorinated, but she'd grown to love it. She'd served most of her life on swim team, though she'd never been quite good. Whenever her parents asked her where she wanted to go, she'd always requested beach vacations. That one Psych class she'd taken had convinced her it was some weird birth thing that drew her to water, though she'd quickly disregarded her own theory and settled on just enjoying it. She tore her dress from her body and pulled on the first swimsuit she found, a black and white stripy thing of indeterminate origin, and pulled her hair into a bun. She reminded herself to calm down. She took a few deep breaths, spread some sunscreen on her back, and mentally prepared herself. A shipwreck. She was going to see a shipwreck. She did the quickest of happy-dances and fled down the stairs, bare feet pattering down the marble.

**Author's Note: I've forgotten how much fun writing the Caribbean was. As always, I love it when y'all review. The warm fuzzies are lovely. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	10. Zylphia

Ship wreck, ship wreck, ship wreck, ship wreck, Eva chanted in her head. She'd never seen a ship wreck before. What if there was treasure? Or skeletons? Oh, she was excited. She ran out to the pool house and began to rummage for a snorkel. She found a light blue pair that seemed to fit and popped them on her face. Perfect, now the fins. Eventually, she dug out a matching pair that were close enough and walked over to her chair to deposit her belongings. Off came her white t-shirt and off went the sunglasses. Darcy gave her a look from above the paper. How nice of him to follow her out and critique her.

"You wanna come?" she asked.

"No."

"Suit yourself," she said, turning towards the water.

"Where are you going?"

"Ship wreck."

"You don't even know where it is?"

"I'll find it. It's like ten thirty, I've got plenty of time."

"I don't feel comfortable letting you go by yourself."

"I'm twenty four. No. I'm twenty five, Darcy. I'm not a child." He scoffed. Bastard.

"It's really only worth going if you take a scuba tank."

"Sorry I don't match up to your list of necessary characteristics, but I can't scuba."

"Then at least let me take you out there. You'll never find it by yourself." She groaned.

"How long do you intend to take?"

"Seconds," he said, standing up. And, there went the shirt. Couldn't he at least make it easier and have some hideous deformity or something? Then again, she'd always found Erik cuter than Raoul, so…

She watched him kick off his shoes and walk to the boathouse. He came out thirty seconds later holding a snorkel of his own.

"I thought it wasn't worth going without a tank."

"Perhaps I've been quick to judge." Of course you have, asshole.

"So, what now?"

"Dingy. It's docked out front."

"Can I drive?"

"No."

"Ass." He ignored her and walked around the house. Eva insisted upon beating him and ran ahead, nearly tripping down the dock. She jumped into the dingy.

"Sit on the other side, nearer the back," he said, jumping in behind her and starting the motor.

"Why the back?"

"Better weight distribution. You go faster," he said, untying the lines and steering the boat away from the dock.

"You don't strike me as such an irresponsible driver."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said. And much I don't care to, Eva added to herself.

The rest of the rather quick trip passed in silence, Eva closing her eyes and letting the salt spray coat her lips. She felt the boat slow and wobble as Darcy stood, leaning over to tie the boat to the thoughtfully placed mooring ball. She tried not to look at his arms as he tied the knot. She snapped the mask over her eyes, blinking furiously at the bit of salt stuck under her lids. Darcy stuck his own mask on and jumped out of the boat. Well, here went nothing, she thought. With that, she flung herself into the water. It was warm and salty and excellent and—holy shit. Rather, holy ship.

The ribs of an old shipping vessel pricked up towards the surface, covered with moss and surrounded by fish. Filigrees of light shone down through the water, sparkling into the depths. Eva was mesmerized, and just floated around, letting the waves sweep her to and fro.

She inhaled and exhaled, mind whirring as she created stories for the wreck below her. About a hundred yards away, she saw the juts of rock most likely responsible for the ship's demise. She'd never have seen them from the surface. The remains could easily have been there for decades, possibly a century. It had been a storm, she decided. High winds, low visibility. Most had perished in the wreck, the rest had found shelter on an island and rowed to safety, but they'd lost their friends, perhaps their families. Maybe they were escaping. Maybe they were refugees. Everything they had was on this boat, and now it was gone. Now their families were gone. They were tortured by it. Perhaps he'd forgotten it was his turn in the crows nest, perhaps he'd drawn the maps wrong. Perhaps they were all drunk as hell. He'd survived, but he'd lost his brother. His father was dead. What was he going to tell his mum?

No, sad. That's sad, she thought. She went to wipe a tear from her eye, but found her mask in the way. She poked her head above the water and struggled her way back to the dingy, hauling herself in and pulling her fins from her feet. Darcy hoisted himself up a few minutes later. He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, and she cocked her head. They made their way wordlessly back to the house.

* * *

Eva stepped of the dingy with a shake in her step, wobbling towards the house. She felt a hand grab her wrist.

"You ok?" she heard him say. His voice glided over her wounds, numbing her, caressing her. When had he developed that power over her? She shook his hand from her arm.

"Fine," she said stalking to the pool house, dropping off her snorkel. She was still sort of wet, and scrounged around the pool deck for a towel.

"They're the pool house."

"Why are you here?" she asked him. He looked at her quizzically. "I mean it. Why are you always here?"

"Charlie's a friend of mine."

"So you lend him your plane? Waste your weeks tolerating me for him? Why are you here?"

"If you're attempting to amuse yourself with the intricacies of my psyche, you really needn't bother."

"Yes, because everything I do is for my amusement. I dearly love to laugh," she said, throwing up her arms. "Not you, Darcy. You are not to laugh at."

"You have given me more credit than I deserve."

"I wouldn't disagree."

"From where does this conversation spring?"

"I am not a child. I do not need you to be nice to me, to cling to me at all times and tell me where things are and exist every fricking time I turn around. I do not need to be coddled by someone such as you."

"Such as me."

"As perfect, as faultless as Sir Darcy."

"Your judgment is certainly poor if it has led you to that conclusion."

"You, lecturing me on judgment?"

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you, you're acting as a child" he said, turning away. "Eva, please don't torture yourself. It's not worth it." He walked into the house. She kept herself from screaming and flopped into the pool. Her hair spread out, halo-like around her. She closed her eyes and floated. The water lapped at her cheeks.

* * *

Darcy stormed up the stairs. No, he wouldn't get angry with her. He couldn't get angry with her. She was introducing feeling into him, and he couldn't stand that. From now on, he wouldn't do it. He couldn't. He would sit and work, and the next twelve days would be a piece of cake.

He kicked off his shoes as he entered his room, changing into a pair of dry shorts and toweling off his hair. It stuck up in angles. He looked at himself in the mirror, poking at the skin under his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping much, and the dark spots were starting to show. He disregarded them and walked outside to his deck, leaning against the balcony. Of course she was there. She was always there. He groaned and flopped onto his chair

* * *

The next four days went quickly. Jo grew sicker, Charlie clinging to her bedside. Eva and Darcy said little to each other. Five days after they had landed, Eva was overcome with the desire to do something, go for a bike ride, anything. But she felt awful asking for anything from Charlie, so she stayed silent and read by the pool side, refusing to make eye contact with Him. She rarely even referred to Him by name anymore. On the fifth day, a visiting doctor decided that Jo was in need of medication. He had phoned in the request to a pharmacy back on the big island but couldn't deliver it himself. Eva jumped at the opportunity to go pick it up, though she was promptly reminded of the few miles of water in between her and the prescription. Darcy had offered to drive and, considering her previous enthusiasm, she felt more than slightly awkward at the prospect of bowing out. She figured she might as well, considering how stir-crazy she was getting, and went to dress herself.

She figured, for Jo, she might as well wear one of her new dresses. But then maybe He would get the wrong idea. Well, what wrong idea? And why did she care about what He thought? He was just a tight-ass who couldn't pull the stick out if he tried. She tossed her hair up in a messy bun, thought better of it, and let it hand loose. She swiped on the tiniest trace of eyeliner and grabbed a pair of sandals, though she hated to. She hated shoes and avoided them whenever possible.

She met Darcy in the foyer. Why did he always stare at her like that? Probably to reassure her of her inanity. At least it worked.

"You ready?" he asked.

She nodded and slipped her sandals on. He opened the door for her and followed her out to the big boat. God, that really was a gorgeous thing. About thirty two feet, she guessed, and royal blue with white leather. Say what you want about new-ish money, but damn, Charlie had style. She climbed aboard and sat near the bow, putting on her sunglasses. The boat roared to life and Darcy threw the lines back onto the dock, piloting out into the water. The trip seemed longer this time, but Eva relished in every moment. The sun was hot on her legs and the sea spray was cool on her face. She could have fallen asleep had she not picked the more rickety bit of the boat to sit in, but she mustered through without admitting her mistake. It was comfortable enough, and at least she could wear a dress without tights and six sweaters.

They eventually made it to Tortola. Darcy parked the boat and stepped off, waiting for Eva to get her bearings as she regained contact with dry land. She began to walk ahead of him, realized she had no idea where she was going, and stopped. He walked ahead of her, leading the way to the pharmacy. He went in to retrieve the medication, then came out empty handed. She looked at him blankly.

"Are you really not going to talk to me for the rest of the trip?" he asked. She sighed.

"I was attempting."

"What happened to getting along for Jo and Charlie's sake?"

"I thought better of it."

"But you still came?"

"Out of tender consideration for my poor friend's feelings."

"And to think you were going stir crazy with nothing to do." Not that that had to do with him or anything.

"I resent the implication."

"I see. Well, since we're here, anything you'd care to do? Johanna's medication shouldn't be ready an hour, so we have a touch of time to kill. A bit of light shopping, bike ride, spelunking?"

"Do they actually have spelunking here?"

"I wasn't seri—"

"I wanna go spelunking. Let's go spelunking."

"I don't think we actually have time for spelunking. I don't even know what spelunking is."

"The Great Darcy doesn't know what spelunking is? Inform the papers, call a press conference."

"Do you know what spelunking is?"

"That's unimportant. I want to go spelunking."

"You're not even dressed for it."

"You said you didn't know what it was!"

"Tell you what. Indulge me. Spend the next hour in a bookstore, grab a coffee, and amuse yourself. I need to run a few errands anyway. I'll come get you and take you back to Netherfield. We'll check on Jo and make sure she's doing all right. Then, tomorrow, we'll go spelunking. Fair?" Eva sighed.

"If you insist."

She walked to the bookstore, perusing the shelves. It was small, but to her liking. The owner had ignored the general lines of bookshelves, preferring to stack books in miscellaneous piles with no regard for author or genre. It was magnificent. She happily spent the next hour delving into pages, tucking a few worn paperbacks under her arm. Darcy returned a bit later, a few bags in tow. Eva paid for her books and walked outside before turning back towards him.

"Any chance we could grab a coffee? I'm dying."

"There's a shop over there."

"Excellent." They sat down at a rickety table under a beach umbrella. The coffee arrived fairly quickly, and Eva could no longer hold in her curiosity.

"So," she said, "What's in the bags?"

"This and that."

"How specific."

"Well, there's Jo's medicine, a few things for me, and a late birthday present for you," he said, taking a nonchalant sip of coffee. She wanted to detest him for thinking of her, but couldn't quite control herself.

"Can I open it?"

"If you wish. I was going to wait until tonight, but now is as good a time as any."

"I mean, if you don't mind." The faintest of smiles crept onto his lips as he pulled a small package from the collection of bags under the tables. She tried to open it daintily. Inside of the black paper was a small red box. Her eyebrows furrowed as she popped it open, revealing a crimson teardrop pendant on a gold chain.

"It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it." She looked up at him.

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"Call it a peace offering."

"Can I wear it?"

"Of course." She tried to open the clasp but her hands shook. He stood and walked behind her, sweeping her hair to one side. She couldn't help shivering as his cool fingers graced her neck. The clasp behaved and, just as swiftly, he was back in his chair. She looked down.

"It's beautiful." He merely took another sip of his coffee.

* * *

The medication had come out of the pharmacy faster than he would have thought, but he had given her an hour in the store and figured it wasn't fair to renege. He did a bit of light shopping, picking up a present for her. He'd been enough of an ass recently to merit it.

He was dying for caffeine, but it was about time to head back. He didn't want to leave Charlie and Jo by themselves for too long, but when she had suggested a coffee, he was thoroughly relieved. Why did she look at him like that, chewing her lips and fussing with her hair? It had gone curlier in the humidity, but it was still lush enough to make him ache for it. She seemed to mind, though.

"So," she said, "What's in the bags?"

"This and that."

"How specific."

"Well, there's Jo's medicine, a few things for me, and a late birthday present for you," he said. She looked so surprised. Was it really that out of the ordinary for someone to get something for her?

"Can I open it?"

"If you wish. I was going to wait until tonight, but now is as good a time as any."

"I mean, if you don't mind." He couldn't help but smile at her hesitance, and reached into the back. She was itching to open it. He hadn't felt that sort of excitement in ages. Her fingers twitched as she opened the box. Was it too much?

Could she wear it? Of course she could wear it. It was hers. She seemed…confused, and she was having an awfully hard time opening the clasp. Hoping he wasn't crossing any boundaries, he stood and brushed her hair to the side. Just as marvelous as he had imagined. She was so warm, her ears pink from the sun. Figuring he was taking an awfully long time, he slid the clasp into place and sat down, though he could have spent ages standing behind her.

"It's beautiful," she said.

Could she see the flush in his cheeks? He settled for hiding behind his coffee.

**Author's Note: Have a few extra words for the tenth chapter. And, as per request, a touch more of Darcy POV. Hope you guys aren't tired of this yet, we're just getting started. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	11. Nementia

They returned to the island, neither speaking much on the way back. Darcy went to Jo's room to dispense the medicine, while Eva changed into a swimsuit, threw on a pair of shorts, and took to her usual pool chair with a book. She had finished the Tolstoy and had moved to Balzac, though she regretted the decision immediately. She sat comfortably for about a half an hour before she heard a padding of shoes behind her.

"She wants to speak to you," Darcy said quietly before turning away. Eva heaved herself up and walked upstairs. She pushed open the door to Jo's room. Charlie stood and left.

"Thanks, Eva," he said before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

"Hey Jo," Eva said, walking to the bed and sitting down. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine, just a rather bad head cold." She sneezed. "I wanted to ask you something though."

"Yeah?"

"How're you doing?"

"Fine, it's warm, the food's good."

"How's Darcy?"

"Why didn't you ask him, he was just up here."

"Yeah, he seemed sort of…off. Did you yell at him?"

"Why is it always that I yelled at him? What if he just did something really shitty and I called him out on it?"

"Did he?"

"No."

"Is this about Shane?"

"Why would it be about Shane?"

"Because you've been insane around boys ever since Shane."

"Listen, I only told you about Shane so you would understand why I needed a new place to live."

"Yeah, you never told me all about Shane."

"Do you really want to hear?"

"Eva, just be nice to Darcy. He means well."

"They all mean well," Eva mumbled under her breath. "Especially yours."

"He is excellent," Jo said dreamily.

"Hon, go to sleep. You'll feel better when the meds kick in."

"Alright, darling. Play nice." Jo rolled over and promptly nodded off. Eva gave her a pat on the back and walked out, shutting the door behind her.

Eva padded back downstairs, grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen ad sliding her sunglasses back down her face. She saw Charlie and told him Jo was asleep. He nodded and thanked her, walking up the stairs. She went back to the pool, slipping into her normal deck chair. Of course he had to be there. He was always there, sitting in his stupid deck chair with his stupid book and his stupid hair and his stupid abs.

"So," she said. "You reading anything interesting?"

"Not at this juncture," he said, attempting to conceal the cover of his paperback. It was thin, probably Beckett or something equally ridiculous.

"You wanna hear about Balzac?"

"You seem far too interested in trying to have a conversation."

"I haven't talked to you much. I feel like I should be making up for lost time." He closed his book and looked at her.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Books. Jo told me you do something vaguely book-y." He smiled slightly.

"Yeah, vaguely book-y."

"Like what?"

"Nothing interesting. Just lots of paperwork. How's school going?"

"Alright. I'm almost done, but it's a bitch to get all the exams lined up. I'm hoping to finish around the end of May."

"Reading anything interesting?"

"Well, Balzac, but I wouldn't call him phenomenally interesting. Did you every read Spider? Patrick McGrath?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Oh, it's excellent, but I can't tell you what it's about unless you want me to spoil it. It's really good though."

"I feel obligated to ask if you've actually read it."

"Of course I have. It's not like Dostoyevsky. It's actually reasonable to read."

"I'll keep it in mind when I have a spare minute."

"I'm going to guess you don't have many of those."

"No, not many."

"Will I ever actually learn what you do?"

"All you need to know is that it has made me phenomenally wealthy and I have very little time to do anything else."

"It must be nice."

"What?"

"To enjoy what you do."

"Yeah, it's alright. You don't?

"I'm a student. I hate everything I do."

"Perhaps you'll find something you enjoy."

"I want to write," she said.

"And what do you propose to write, Miss Eva?"

"It sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

"I'm holding myself back from a rather mean response."

"I appreciate your decorum. Tell you what. When you tell me what you do, I'll tell you what my book's about."

"A fair enough deal," he said. He neglected to continue.

"Dammit, I thought that was gonna work."

"No such luck."

"I'm starting _Catch-22_ next."

"A little long, but I think you'll enjoy it."

"How bout _On the Road_?"

"Haven't read Kerouac in years, but it's age appropriate."

"_Lolita?" _He swallowed visibly.

"Never read it."

"Yes you have. There's absolutely no way you escaped college without having read it. Then again, you never read Gatsby."

"Still on about Gatsby, aren't you?"

"Always." The conversation seemed to peter out.

She read for a while, but figured she might as well get it over with. She sat up and turned to him.

"Sorry," she mumbled. He turned to look at her.

"Excuse me?"

"For freaking out, I'm sorry."

"I don't know to what you're referring."

"Shut up and let me apologize. The boat. For not talking to you, for making you do things you don't want to do. We don't have to go spelunking, and I'm perfectly fine just sitting by the pool. I'm sorry," she said. Darcy raised a brow.

"Ok," he said. Eva groaned.

"Didn't your mom ever teach you any manners?" she asked. Darcy looked down at his book.

"No," he said simply. Eva shrugged and stood up, slipping off her shorts and her sunglasses. Despite sitting by the pool looking at the ocean every day, she had rarely walked down to the beach, and she felt the entirely preposterous need to do a touch of yoga. Trying as hard as possible not to embody every possible stereotype, she walked through the sand and threw herself up onto her hands. Tumbling around, she laughed. She used to do this with her mother on vacation.

Eventually, she fell into the ocean and began to paddle around. The water was surprisingly warm, and she floated on her back, the waves brushing her and pushing her. Each time the water carried her back to shore, she stood and flounced back through the water, throwing herself into it with a splash. When she felt she had enough sand in her suit, she drew herself up and stood knee-deep. The sun was beginning to go down, growing red as the sky grew darker. She frantically ran back to the pool house, grabbed a paddleboard, and thrust herself into the water. She paddled furiously. The sun had gone further down now, nearly kissing the ocean. Fish nibbled at her toes, and she could have sworn she had seen dolphins playing on the horizon. The sun went down and she smiled, then started to paddle back in. She fished the board out of the water and nearly fell over at the weight of it. She righted herself and towed the thing inside. She toweled off and walked upstairs to dress for dinner.

* * *

After Eva had left to speak with Jo, he had settled into his normal chair. He missed her company, however silent she had been in recent days. He was still for a moment, but he sat up and put down his book, feeling the need to stretch tingle in his toes. He stood up and bent over, wrapping his arms behind his back. That was better. He itched with the need for movement. He hadn't run in days. Though Charlie's island was impressive, it wasn't blessed with an inordinate number of roads or trails, and Darcy felt it a waste to spend time in the basement of Netherfield, which was home to the gym. Besides, he could run when they were stateside. Then he wouldn't be wasting time he could have been spending with her. He sat down and picked up his book.

He hated himself for his obsession, his fixation with this near-child. Hell, she was almost a bloody nymphet. Speak of temptation.

The conversation had been interesting to say the least, though confusing. She wanted to be a writer. Perhaps he could volunteer his… no, that would be an abuse of power. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he'd taken advantage of his job. Of course, Caroline had been a mistake. Good thing that hadn't gone anywhere.

"Sorry," he heard her whisper. He wasn't sure he had heard her right.

"Excuse me?" Why would she possibly need to apologize to him?

"For freaking out, I'm sorry." He was confused.

"I don't know to what you're referring."

"Shut up and let me apologize. The boat. For not talking to you, for making you do things you don't want to do. We don't have to go spelunking, and I'm perfectly fine just sitting by the pool. I'm sorry," she said. He raised a brow.

"Ok." Eva groaned.

"Didn't your mom ever teach you any manners?" she asked. Darcy looked down at his book.

"No," he said simply. She had left.

She had apologized to him. Why had she apologized to him? Sweet, brilliant Eva, who hadn't said a word to him in days, was apologizing. He had processed too slowly to adequately fill his side of the conversation, and she walked away in a huff. He had butchered another conversation with her; perhaps it shouldn't have come as a surprise.

She tumbled on the beach, laughing like a small child. She was gorgeous, everything beautiful in a package kept from him. She was tantalizingly close, and utterly, impossibly far away.

He cast her from his mind and settled in with his book. Gatsby was captivating, once he had bothered to read it.

* * *

With medicine in her system, Jo felt better enough to begin to wobble about Netherfield, even joining the rest for dinner that night. She munched on jicama and pineapple while the rest luxuriated in the normal feast of fresh fish. After dinner, they all sat near the fire pit and swapped stories. Eva, having gone through an above-average amount of tequila, was easily coaxed into conversation. Darcy was not, and spent most of the hour typing on his laptop.

"Darcy," Eva slurred, "What're you doing?"

"Writing," he said simply.

"I thought you didn't do writer-y things."

"Not often, though work correspondence can't be neglected for too long."

"You're boring. BO-RING, with a capital lots of letters."

"I can't disagree," he said mildly. Eva blew a raspberry and stumbled up to the bar, tripping over her own feet as she walked. Jo was tucked into Charlie's shoulder, snoring softly.

"Should we cut her off?" Charlie asked.

"I think she's taken care of it," said Darcy, gesturing to Eva, who couldn't seem to get the lid off the bottle.

"Child-proofing skills at work, I see. Speaking of that, how's Georgie?" Darcy glared at him.

"Fine, though I don't care to speak of her around these…people."

"For Christ's sake, Darcy," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"No offense meant. It's just," he groaned and continued, "I shouldn't be here, shouldn't have the distractions. This is important, really important."

"You're getting stressed out. You want to leave early."

"It's not that."

"I get it, there's no need to explain it to me. I'm your friend. We'll leave the day after next. It's only two days before we were supposed to leave anyway," Charlie finished. Darcy looked up at his friend, mouthed a few words of gratitude, and went up to his room. Eva, realizing there was no chance of opening the bottle, realized she was being what she believed was an intrusion, and followed Darcy up the stairs, leaving Jo and Charlie to themselves. Charlie stretched, then snuggled into next to Jo, fire crackling beside them.

**Author's Note: Here's to MadAboutAusten for suggesting more lit conversations. Hope they aren't too annoying/poorly written.**

**Much love and best wishes,**

**Zoe**


	12. Keyframe

The four gathered the next morning for breakfast on their final day at Netherfield.

"I have a proposition," Charlie said. "Given the whole last day thing, we need to do something utterly and entirely special. You may recall the sailboat out front and, seeing as how it has yet to be used, I vote for an all day affair, complete with picnic and snorkeling. How's that sound?"

"What are we snorkeling around?" Eva asked cautiously.

"There's an island about an hour's sail away with a great beach, a few caves, and some awesome reefs."

"Then I'm in," Eva said with a smile. "Jo," she asked, "you up for it?"

"Of course," Jo replied. "I've barely seen anything since I've arrived."

"Since I'm taking Darcy's silence to be a yes," Charlie said, ignoring the grumble from the man across the table, "let's call it a date. Let's leave in about an hour, that should give us plenty of time to get everything together, yeah?"

"Definitely," Eva said, slurping down the rest of her coffee. "I'll go put myself together now, then I can help get food together, if you need it."

"Any help would be lovely," said Charlie, standing from the table.

"Awesome, see you in twenty," Eva said, jumping up from the table and running upstairs. Darcy watched Charlie lean into Jo's ear, mumbling something. She giggled, nodded, and walked upstairs. Darcy stared at Charlie pointedly.

"What?" Charlie asked. Darcy sighed and shuffled his paper. "Do you not want to come or something?" he asked. Darcy was silent for a moment.

"Thank God this is almost over," he said. Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Go dress yourself. I'll see you on the boat," Charlie said, leaving Darcy and fleeing to Jo. Darcy shuffled his paper, attempted to read it, accepted his inevitable failure, and moved on. He stood, grabbing another coffee and choking it down as quick as he could. These past few days had damn early killed him. To see her all of the time, always there. He had a perpetual lump in his throat, endless pools of longing flooding his heart and mind. How had he let it get this bad?

He finished the coffee and set the mug on the table, moving to walk upstairs. It would be over soon, and then he could forget it had ever happened. He ran up the stairs two at a time, nearly bumping into her as he hit the second floor.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "You all right?"

"If it only took a man running into me to destroy my psyche, I'm not sure I'd be alive right now," she replied, looking up at him. "You good?" she asked. Perhaps he should have stopped staring at her, but she was gorgeous. Today's creation was new, a patchwork bikini that stopped a few inches above her natural waist. It was corseted, laced up in the back, a bustier of blues and greens. She wore a pair of black jean cutoffs, frayed and worn. Knowing her, she'd probably made them herself. Her hair was pulled back in a long fishtail braid, though he would have preferred to see it down, to run his fingers through it, use it to pull her closer. As he'd bumped into her, he'd gotten a whiff of her shampoo, of her. She smelled of roses and coconut, sensual amber and clean lemon. How'd he love to do as Charlie had done, to sweep away the woman he'd found and carry her into the sunset.

"Fine," he choked out. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Course. I'll see you downstairs," he mumbled, side-stepping her and returning to his room. She must think him awful, creepy and terrifying. He shuddered at the thought and peeled away his clothing, changing into more proper sailing attire.

* * *

What an awful bastard, she thought as she padded down the stairs. Then again, she usually read too much into these things. He always had this look in his eyes, like he was so upset with everything that was going on and everyone he had to deal with. Of course, given his company, she could understand it. He'd had to deal with her for the past week or so, and half of it she had spent in a Shane-induced rage. It was that bastard's fault. Effing Shane. It was around then when she couldn't handle guys.

She could admit it was entirely ridiculous, how that relationship had sprung up. She was young and naïve and shocked that a guy was taking interest in her. Shane had been cute enough for what he was, though he'd always had weird hair. He'd been nice and opened doors and been a gentleman. He'd always paid for meals and carried her bag. They'd dated for about eight months, most of the way through freshman year and he'd asked her to move in with him. So, she'd said yes.

She was knocked out of her reverie by Jo, who had taken it upon herself to create the feast to end all feasts.

"Jo, are you really sure you should be doing all this? You just got over whatever you had."

"Don't worry, it'll be fine. Here, help me slice avocado."

"Come on, you know I can never get the pit out right."

"No problem. Here, can you cube the chicken?" Eva had no real excuse to get out of that, so she washed her hands and picked up a knife. Her knife skills were slightly less than exemplary, and just she finished with, Jo scooped it up and threw it in a pan with some onions.

"What exactly are you making?"

"A sort of chicken salad thing," she said. "Here, slice the tomatoes."

"Are you serious? I don't think I'm qualified for this."

"Shut up and slice. I feel like we should be doing something, considering we've just been living here for the past week."

"I'm not sure how I'll be able to leave tomorrow."

"By plane, perhaps. Well, first by boat, then by—"

"Jo, you're hilarious. That even sounded like something I might say."

"Oh, I must remedy my speech patterns immediately."

"Ha. Ok, tomatoes are sliced. Need me to do anything else?"

"No, I got it," Jo said while heaving the rest of the food into some coolers. "Ok, I think we got most everything. Just grab what you want to drink."

"Will do, mi'lady." Eva went into the pantry, emptied a few Diet Cokes (she'd finally gotten around to asking for them) into the cooler, and rejoined Jo, who was struggling to carry all of the hampers in one go. She was just as stubborn as Eva in that way. She was about to offer her assistance, but Charlie beat her to it.

"Here, darling, let me help," he hoisted most of the bags up, leaving Jo and Eva with relatively light loads between them. "You both ready?"

"Of course," Jo said with a smile. "Where's Darcy?"

"Neatening up the boat," Charlie replied. "Have to make it suitable for you two."

"It looked gorgeous," Eva said. "What is it?"

"The pride and joy of my father. Genevieve, the Leonardo Eagle 44. Favored day-sailer world over, or so he liked to brag. Hell, he'd barely let me touch it before I turned 16."

"You turned a better sailor?"

"He died," Charlie said simply. "But don't let that spoil the mood. Come on, Darcy'll kill us if we make him wait." The three walked to the dock, Eva nearly tripping over her own feet. Oh, that boat was gorgeous, all teak and scarlet. Darcy swung down from the rigging, shirtless yet still clad in boat shoes, though Eva guessed she couldn't quite begrudge that.

"Charlie, you are a beautiful man for letting me near her," he said.

"Darcy's the only one of us who can really sail, so he'll be acting captain today. I forgot to retrieve his hat."

"I think we'll all manage without that particular image." Darcy began to lift the hampers onto the boat. Eva made a valiant effort to ignore the way his arms flexed as he moved, though she failed. He was really too pretty to ignore. She chalked it up to visual appreciation; just because she thought he was pretty didn't mean she didn't hate the guy. She grabbed the last bag and jumped onto the boat, nearly falling off as Gen listed under her.

"Careful," Darcy said, grabbing her arm. "Let me take that." She obliged and sat down.

"I really don't know much about sailing," Jo said, settling in, "but this seems awesome."

"Damn straight," Eva replied. Charlie untied them from the dock and jumped aboard, following Darcy's instructions and dealing with the proper lines. The sails furled upwards and, soon enough, Gen began to cut through the water. Charlie sat down and put his arm around Jo, leaving Eva to stare out into the water. She could nearly see the bottom, it was so clear. Her braid whipped against her back, and she grabbed it to hold it down. The sun beat against her face, but she was cool. She closed her eyes and relished in the beginnings of her last day.

"Eva, if you want, you can go sit up on the bow," Charlie said. "You get a great view of the islands."

"Sweet." Eva took Charlie's request for the closest thing to time alone with Jo and hoisted herself up onto the teak, settling onto the bow, hair blowing behind her. She felt free. That was the only way she could think to describe it.

Eventually, they reached an island and moored in front.

"You guys got lucky. This place is usually packed," Charlie said, beginning to unload the baskets. "Here, go pick a spot to eat." The girls obliged, picking up hampers and trooping over to the beach. Jo spread out a blanket as Eva began to unpack. She'd spent relatively little time actually on the beach, and she had forgotten how much she loved feeling the sand between her toes. Eventually, the boys climbed off the boat and met them, sitting down in beginning to dig into the feast Jo had prepared. Eva placed a large helping of the chicken salad between two slices of bread, layering with tomatoes and lettuce. There was a macaroni salad and something with avocado, as well as a potato dish that Eva couldn't quite identify. She cracked open one of her Diets and dug in. She hadn't realized how starving she had been. Her dad had used to say it was something about the sea air.

After lunch, Jo and Charlie settled in for a nap, leaving Eva and Darcy to amuse themselves. Eva requested they adventure through the grove of palms and Darcy, having no possible excuse, was in no position to refuse her. She ran off into the woods and he followed her.

"It's just gorgeous," she said to the man behind her. He was quiet, but she was in the mood for conversation and continued speaking.

"It's just so nice of Charlie to let us stay with him."

"He does things like that."

"He's too nice for his own good, sort of like Jo."

"I've never met anyone with the same mind set as Charlie." Eva looked back at the tall, now bronzed man staring at her. Why did he always look at her like she had done everything possible wrong? She wasn't that untrained.

"So, what are your plans when you get back to the city?" she asked, pushing a palm frond from her face.

"Work, family matters that need dealing with."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No."

"I'm back at the coffee shop."

"And those are your career goals? To work in a coffee shop?"

"At the moment, it's the best to be done. Besides," she said, with hints of anger touching her breath, "not all of us can afford to read for a living." She plunged forth through the palms, reaching the end of the grove. "Oh," she said simply.

They had reached a second beach, though the sand had been replaced by a flat rock that led into the water. A large cave-like structure lay to the left.

"Yeah, this bit is Charlie's favorite."

"He should have come."

"He was otherwise occupied."

"Am I sensing jealousy?"

"Jealousy is not my immediate reaction when graced with their presence." Eva was silent for a moment, then continued speaking.

"We should head back."

"We should." Why was he looking at her like that? Little shit? Ok, she was going to be looked at like a socially inept animal? Fine. She stepped towards him, looked up. He looked down with that look in his eyes, like he was angry about everything. Fuck it.

She kissed him, pressed her lips to his, then pulled away slowly.

"They'll be missing us," she said, sauntering away and leaving him behind.

**Author's Note: Eep. Hope you guys don't mind waiting until Thursday. I'm considering changing the days I post. Thoughts?**

**As always, thanks for reading this drabble. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	13. Mal de Coucou

Ah, cold, beautiful, brilliant New York. Darcy'd missed the city.

The plane ride had been uneventful, Jo and Charlie cuddling on the couch, leaving Eva and Darcy to deal with themselves. She'd helped herself to the rest of the Kinder Bueno and had settled into her chair with a book. He hadn't seen what it was, but it looked awfully thick to have actually been enjoyable. Nevertheless, she had plodded through it with stunning speed and had been mostly done by the time they had touched down in Westchester. He tried to pretend she wasn't ignoring him the entire way home.

It had been an easy car trip back into the city, Eva having fallen asleep almost as soon as she had gotten into the car. She really had a penchant for that. He had driven in near-silence, parking just outside the apartment and gently poking her awake. She had started, glared at him, and removed herself from the car. He and Charlie had carried the bags up the stairs despite their protestations. Eva had stalked into the apartment as Jo and Charlie had kissed goodbye, leaving Darcy to stare awkwardly at the girl who answered the door. She had been more than happy to stare back. He had squirmed and said hello. He believed her name was Maria.

When Jo and Charlie were finished, she walked inside, blowing him a kiss. Charlie let out a sigh.

"Oh, she'd perfect."

"Indeed."

"I really need to thank you."

"You do."

"Aren't you a bucket of conversation?

"Always," Darcy replied. Charlie scoffed.

"You didn't have the slightest bit of fun?"

"It was tolerable."

"I don't know whom to ask to do your lobotomy."

"Funny as always, Charles. Can we leave?"

"Sure, whatever you want." The two walked downstairs. All Darcy knew is that he could never bear to see her again. He sighed as Charlie got into the driver's seat. He let his head lean against the window. The car still smelled of her.

* * *

Well, at least she could admit to herself that it'd had been a mistake. Despite the perplexed, near-disgusted look on his face that she'd been able to enjoy as she walked back through the grove, she had guessed it would probably not the greatest of ideas in the long run. Then again, she hated the bastard, and making him uncomfortable was the most seductive of pleasures. God, it had been fun.

She chased away any idea other than that it had been fun because she was messing with him. It had nothing to do with her impending loneliness in conjunction with his abs. No, that had nothing to do with it whatsoever. Besides, it's not like she had enjoyed it or anything. No, it was simply to bother him.

It seemed like it had worked. He'd barely said a word to her since it'd happened, and she hadn't forced conversation. She felt kind of bad, taking advantage of him like that, but it had been funny as hell and she wasn't a person who spent much time with regret.

She was knocked out of her reverie by a knock on her door.

"Dinner's ready," Jo said, "Can you go grab Maria?" Eva slung herself off her bed and went down the hall, pushing the door open.

"Maria? Have you moved in a week?"

"I don't see what business it is of yours," Maria replied, closing her laptop. "How was it?"

"Nice."

"You sleep with him?"

"Of course not."

"Then I'm no longer interested," she said, walking by Eva. Eva groaned and walked out into the kitchen. Jo had picked up Chinese.

"Nothing like being back in New York," she said cheerily.

"I know," Eva said, "I've missed the MSG."

"So how was it?"

"What did you guys do?"

"Meet any cute guys?"

"Did Charlie propose yet?" The twins alternated for a few minutes with their inanity before tiring themselves out and conversing among themselves, ignoring the semblances of answers Jo gave them. They were still the tiniest bit bitter. Maria ate quietly before asking to be excused. Jo was still in a good enough mood to let her leave. Upon her dismissal, the twins pitched a fit, claimed excessive homework, and traipsed off to their rooms, leaving Jo and Eva. The latter heaped more lo mein onto her plate.

"So, successful trip?" she asked.

"Entirely," Jo replied dreamily.

"You really did pick the nicest guy in the universe."

"His friend isn't half bad."

"Yes he is."

"I don't know why you hate him so much."

"Only you would need a reason to hate someone. You just get this vibe off of him, like he's this awful person who insists upon being there at all times just to be mad at you."

"You know you sound insane, yeah?"

"How is that different from any other day?" Eva replied. Jo laughed, then stretched.

"I do not want to go to work tomorrow."

"I'm not even sure I could call it work. I just took a vacation and am leaving in a few days to go home for Christmas."

"You're going home? Nice. I have to stay in the city and work on some stuff."

"Jo, are you still refusing to go home? You know you can always come up to Meryton and spend a few days with us. They're crazy, but we have plenty of room and you can make fun of them all you want."

"Thanks for the offer, but I really should stay here. Someone has to keep an eye on Maria."

"The twins are going home?"

"Yeah, but it'll be fun. I don't really talk to her that much. Maybe we'll catch a movie or something."

"Good luck getting her out of her room for anything other than Chinese."

"I'll work on it. Here, help me clear." Jo and Eva cleaned up the kitchen in relative silence. After finishing, Eva went to her room to unpack, but stopped and poked her head back in the kitchen.

"Jo, he makes you happy, yeah?"

"Blissfully."

"Just wanted to check. Sometimes it's kind of hard to tell with you."

* * *

"You sure you're going to be ok while I'm gone?" Eva asked.

"Of course, of course," Jo said. "Please, don't worry about me, have fun." Eva gave Jo one final hug and carted herself down the stairs, dragging her roller bag to the subway. It was December 23rd, and she was going home. She sighed. It had been a while.

A train came fairly quickly and she dragged herself on. She would meet Mike at Grand Central and they'd ride up together. It was nice to be going up with a friend. She hadn't had too many at school.

The door swished open and she hauled herself onto the main concourse. They'd planned to meet by the clock, and Eva smashed her way through the tourists in an effort to find him. She saw him eventually, and they wheeled themselves over to the proper train, sitting down on the grungy red and navy seats. It was about an hour and a half up to Meryton, just enough distance to prevent her from feeling like she needed to go too often.

"So," she said, "How've you been?"

"Pretty good," he replied. "We missed you while you were gone. You two take a lot of the stress off of Vi."

"I felt kind of bad leaving her like that, especially with the both of us gone."

"Honestly, she was fine for the first few days, but I think she's glad to have Jo back for the holidays, though I can't believe she really refused the offer to go home."

"Jo doesn't really like her family all too much. It's a pretty sad story, though she hasn't told me most of it."

"Indeed." The conversation petered out after that. Mike popped in a pair of earbuds and opened a bag of chips. Eva pulled a tattered manuscript from her bag and began to scribble. Eventually, Mike couldn't retain his curiosity.

"Did you write that?"

"Yeah," she said, color flushing to her cheeks. "But don't think that it's good or anything. Cos it's not. It's really awful." Mike laughed at her vehement excuses.

"What is it, exactly?"

"It's a novel of sorts. I've been working on it for ages. I don't really know how to describe it."

"Try."

"Well," Eva said, scratching her head. "There's a girl. And a boy, there's a boy too. It's a period thing. A time thing. Not a menstruation thing." She paused. "I cant believe I just said that." Mike stifled his giggles.

"So it's like Jane Eyre?"

"Well, no. Not really. Not as Gothic. There's a guy and girl, and they hate each other. Like, really detest each other. But they're perfect for each other."

"It sounds like something I've read."

"Yeah, I got the basic idea from some author. I can't remember who, but I think it started with an A. Anyway, all the stuff in the middle is this weird collection of insanity, I change it every time I write it, but there's this bit at the end. It's perfect. He saves her family, her reputation, everything, and he still feels indebted to her. He has this magnificent outpouring of every emotion." She paused, then shook her head. "It sounds so ridiculous when I say it out loud."

"No," Mike said. "It sounds wonderful. Can I be in it?"

"No one in it's as awesome as you," she said, giving him a gentle punch to the arm.

"You're sweet."

"Thanks darling., though it's a much less good reason than that. Really, it just doesn't make sense for her to have a male friend, given the times and all."

"So she's you."

"Shut up, Mike," she said good-naturedly. The conversation receded until they reached Meryton. The two made plans to meet for drinks that night, and each left for their respective houses.

It was a short walk from the train station to Longbourne, and Eva relished in every step. She loved the city, but she'd missed the trees and piles of snow that stayed white. It was the only bit of winter she could really tolerate, clean snow. It made everything cold all right.

She twisted her key in the door and heaved her shoulder against it. The heavy oak groaned open and she stumbled into the entryway. She heard an immediate clack of heels and soon felt her mother throw herself against her.

"Oh, darling. I've missed you so much. Tell me about everything. How's Jo doing, the poor girl. Still avoiding that family of hers? She really can't put it off for ever. My, you look taller. Have you lost weight. I'm on this fantastic new diet, I've dropped nearly seven pounds. It's marvelous, you simply must try it. Not that you don't look skinny, darling, because you do. Oh, James, do come down from there. Your daughter has just arrived home and you simply must see her. Now, have you been using that conditioner I gave you, because your ends are looking just the tiniest bit ragged—"

"Come, Helena, give the girl some space to breathe."

"Hi Dad."

"Hi Pea. How's the city been treating you?"

"Good, though I haven't been there in a while. I was actually down in the Caribbean for a bit."

"Oh, do tell me you met some GORgeous man."

"Yeah, but he happens to be dating Jo." Helena humphed.

"Well, darling, dinner's in the kitchen. We were just about to sit down. Go get yourself settled and changed out of those HIDeous travelling clothes. Then we'll sit down," she said before clacking away.

"Oh, I've missed her," Eva said, hauling her suitcase up the stairs.

"I'd be happy to take that feeling off of you," her father replied.

* * *

After a rather drawn-out dinner with her parents in which her mother questioned every minute detail of her past months, Eva excused herself from the table and crept out of the house to the one pub in town. She found Mike drowning his sorrows at the far-end of the bar and sat down beside him.

"Rough time?" she asked.

"The worst. Apparently I'm too old to still be single and I'm a complete and utter failure."

"My mother's mad because I didn't have a shotgun wedding with arsey-Darcy and pop out twins already."

"Cheers to our families being entirely and utterly predictable." They clinked glasses and drank. Eva remembered very little of the rest of the night, though there had perhaps been some karaoke involved.

**Author's Note: And back to the cold it is, which is weird considering it hit 85 degrees today. At least we have some crazy Bennets...*cough*...Barringers. As always, I love talking to y'all, so feel free to review and inbox me. it's not like I have anything better to do. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	14. Heartworm

Eva woke the next morning with the slightest of headaches, though it quickly left upon remembering the date. She slid out of bed and threw an old cardigan over her t-shirt. She had always loved Christmas. It was the one day everything was right. Already, she could smell ham frying and eggs poaching—her mother only made Eggs Benedict on Christmas morning. She wasn't the greatest of chefs, but she put her heart into it and it was always close enough to edible. Eva ran down the stairs and skittered into the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee and dodging her mother's questions. Clutching her mug, she walked into the library. Her father was sitting in his traditional chair, smoking one of the cigarettes he hid from his wife.

"Daddy, you really shouldn't," Eva said, sitting down opposite from him.

"You're absolutely correct," he said, exhaling. "How've you been, pea?"

"Decent enough," she said, taking a sip from her mug and grimacing.

"Your mother has her skills but, I'll admit, coffee is not one of them."

"I've developed a rather terrible espresso addiction."

"You fancy city-folk. Soon you'll be smoking out of a pipe."

"Actually, that sounds more like you." James grinned slightly, put his book down, and removed his glasses.

"Are you sure you're doing all right?"

"You ask me every time, and I'm always perfect."

"Just wanted to make sure. Father's inclination and all that."

"Everything's lovely." He father smiled.

"Shall we let the barrage begin?"

"Indeed," Eva said, taking his proffered arm. They walked into the kitchen, where Helena was slightly covered in egg, though was paying more attention to the mimosa she held in her left hand.

"Oh, the things I do for my family," she cried, pouring champagne down her throat. "My poor nerves!"

"Yes darling, as you say every year," James said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Need any help?" Eva asked.

"Oh no, of course not. I'll be fine. You two just go off and sit and discuss books and literature or whatever the two of you talk about now. Oh, James. You REEK of smoke. You simply mustn't forget to open the flue when you light the fires." A small smile crept onto Eva's face. At least nothing would ever really change.

Eventually, breakfast was on the table. With the stress of poached eggs off of her chest, Helena relaxed and worked her way through a few more glasses of champagne. Conversation flourished as Eva was inundated with questions regarding her new life, many of which were repeated from yesterday. After a breakfast in which Eva was forced to eat more than she should have, all retired to the living room to open presents. Eva was gifted with clothes she would never wear, and gave the same to her mother. Her father bestowed upon her several of his favorite books—the paperbacks, he kept the originals. She brought him coffee beans from the Den and a copy of Calvino's finest. Vi had told her it was the most appropriate present for any occasion. They all sat in the same chairs they'd sat in since Eva was a small child. Eva and her father read while her mother started fidgeting. Several hours passed in this manner.

* * *

Eva eventually tore herself from her chair and stretched. Her father gave her a nod. Her mother had fallen asleep. Eva walked into the kitchen and made herself a mug of tea. She yawned, stirred in the sugar, and walked upstairs. She had planned to meet Mike, but simply couldn't find the energy. She was exhausted, and had absolutely no idea why. She crawled into bed and switched on the television. It may have been Christmas, but it was also Bride's Day on TLC. It had been too long since she had watched an episode of Four Weddings.

She grew quickly bored with the lackluster brides—no one on this episode had even tried to be interesting. She finished her tea and promptly fell asleep. She woke up a few hours later when her dad sat on her bed. She pulled herself up into a sitting position.

"Hi daddy."

"Dinner will be ready soon, pea"

"How's Mom?"

"She's alright."

"Still driving you crazy?"

"I wouldn't have married her any other way."

"You still like her, don't you, daddy?" Her father raised a brow.

"Of course, sweetie. Why?"

"Cos she's driving me insane and I don't even live with her," she replied. Her father chuckled.

"I only hope you find someone who drives you as insane as she drives me."

"I'm not sure that's what I'm looking for." Her father frowned.

"You're too young to be looking for anything. Have you been talking to your mother? Have you been watching those bride shows again?"

"It's a bad habit."

"Bad indeed. Come have dinner, then you can go out with your friends."

"None of my friends are really here. Everyone's left." Her father sighed.

"Don't dwell on Charlotte. She made her choices."

"I know. Her life and all that. Besides, there's a guy I met in the city. Apparently he lives here too, though I never met him when we were both here."

"It's a small world, pea. Who is it?"

"Mike Lucas."

"He's a good boy. I know his father from the club. Baker, yes?"

"Yeah."

"He's a good kid. He's one I wouldn't mind you—"

"Dad, no. He's a friend. He's one of my good friends. He'll find someone excellent, but we're just friends."

"Pity my matchmaking attempts have failed. Perhaps I'll have to ask your mother for some help." He chuckled as Eva's jaw dropped. "I'm kidding, darling. Now come to dinner."

"Ok, Daddy." Her father kissed her head and left. Eva stretched and rolled out of bed. She put on something resembling an outfit and walked downstairs. She felt better now, and would text Mike when she got the chance. She could use a friendly face.

* * *

"So," Mike asked, "How was dinner?"

"Could have been better, could have been worse. Mom burnt most everything except the potatoes, which was fine. The potatoes were actually really good. It's one of the few things she can do well. Mom talked a lot, Dad didn't. All in all, a fairly normal Christmas dinner. You?"

"Eh, not bad. About the same as it is every year. I'm about ready to go home though."

"We've only been here a day."

"And it's been plenty."

"Maybe someone will rescue you. You seem like the kind of guy with people who need him."

"Yeah, I guess," he said sipping his beer. "It's just…"

"What?"

"I don't know. I have friends, and they're lovely, but it always feels like the second I leave, they stop thinking about me. Like I don't leave a lasting impression. I'm there, and then I'm not, and that's that."

"I'm sure people like you. Me, on the other hand."

"I think it's much easier to analyze the lives of others than to look deeply at your own."

"You should've been a therapist or something."

"Would've made my parents happy."

"Would it have made you happy?"

"The money, maybe. I don't know. Very little makes me happy."

"You always seem happy around me," Eva replied. Mike smiled a sad sort of smile. Eva's hip buzzed.

"One sec," she said. "I have to take this." Mike made a half-hearted gesture as she picked up the phone.

"Hey sweetie, how's New…what?...he said WHAT?...Do you want me to come home?...No, really, it's no trouble, I'll come home…Jo, I'm coming home…here, listen, I have to go pack, I can be on the next train down…yes, I'm coming and there's nothing you can say to stop me. Don't even try…I love you too, see you soon." Eva hung up the phone, hands shaking. She looked at Mike.

"How strong are you," she asked. He gulped.

"Excuse me?"

"Think you could strangle a man?" she said, downing her beer and throwing a bill on the bar. "I have to go," she said, dashing out the door. Mike followed her.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

"Charlie left. He and Jo were going to do Christmas together. She made this huge thing-sounds exactly like her, doesn't it? She's been slaving for ages, and he shows up, hands in his pockets. She's a mess. A total mess. I can't just leave her there, surrounded by food she can't eat."

"I'll come with you."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask, I offered. And I won't take no for an answer. She's my friend too."

"Mike, you're the greatest."

"Train station at 9:30?"

"The greatest," Eva shouted behind her as she raced off into the night.

* * *

After hurried excuses to her family and a half-hearted promise to return sooner than she would, Eva ran out the door. She found Mike at the train station, rubbing his arms against the frost.

"You know, I really should be thanking you. I was fairly ready to escape, terrible as that sounds. " Mike said.

"I'll be sure to pass it on to Charlie."

"Sorry," he said after a few moments.

"It's not your fault."

"Sympathy and empathy, my dear," he said. They were quiet until the train reached Manhattan.

* * *

"She's a mess," Maria said as Eva and Mike walked in. Eva rushed to her side. Mike rushed into the kitchen. Jo was crying, and continued to cry for quite a while. Eva caught bits of the story between her tears.

"I just…I… I thought we…" Jo shook her head and blew her nose. Eva handed her another tissue. Mike had relegated himself to the kitchen and was making a chocolate cake in the hope of making Jo feel better.

"Honey, it's ok. It's going to be ok."

"I just don't know what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's a nasty evil man who deserves all levels of hell."

"But he's not!" she exclaimed, unleashing a new burst of tears. "He's not. He's everything good in the universe."

"No, Jo, you are. And he's the devil for not seeing it."

"You don't get it. You've never loved someone." Eva was silent for a moment. Jo shuddered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just, I really thought he was the one."

"Maybe he is. These things have a funny way of working out."

"You really think so?"

"If it's meant to be, then so it shall be."

"But it isn't," Jo cried, collapsing into a new wave of hysterics. "It isn't now and I don't think it will be." At that, Mike arrived, bearing the most magnificent cake Eva had ever seen. She poured Jo a new glass of wine as Mike cut the cake. Jo cried, ate, drank, cried some more, and fell asleep. Eva tucked a blanket around her and stood, yawning. It was late. Mike stood and walked towards the door. She followed him.

"Sir Cute Mike Lucas," she said, "You deserve to be knighted."

"Please, don't mention it. She needed some people to be around."

"Yeah, and I'm not sure I could have done it without you." The two were quiet for a moment. Mike's eyes flickered.

"I should check on her," Eva said.

"Good idea."

"I'll see you in the morning. I have a feeling I'll be taking Jo's place at the shop."

"See you then," he said, shutting the door behind him. Eva sighed and walked back to the living room. Jo was snoring softly. Eva kissed her forehead, told Maria to keep an eye on her the next day, and crept back to her room. She flopped onto the bed, relishing in the feeling of being back home. It was weird how quickly New York had become hers. She hadn't gone to undergrad there. She'd done her years in a Midwestern writing factory, then realized an English major was useless without grad work. She'd come to the city, dabbled about, and found herself here. She sighed. Here was good.

**Author's Note: Ooh, drama. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	15. Hanker Sore

Eva woke, stretched, cursed out her alarm clock, and dressed herself. It was December 26th, and she was going to work. How adult of her.

She walked into the main hall, yawning and heading for the drip coffee. She grimaced as she poured the stuff down her throat, but smiled when she saw the remnants of the chocolate cake. She cut a rather generous slice for her breakfast and flipped through the paper as she ate. Death and murder, nothing new. The wedding section held her attention briefly, though she quickly realized she was on the way towards being late. She threw her dishes in the sink, left a kind note for Maria asking her to do them, and ran to the living room to check on Jo. She was still asleep, snoring softly in her nest of pillows. Eva scribbled another note telling her to take the day off, then ran out the door for the subway. Luck was on her side, and she was in Manhattan about thirty minutes after she'd woken up.

She ran in the door. It'd been ages since she'd had to use her key—she mostly worked afternoons—but the Den was opening later than usual. Vi had figured most of the clientele would be taking a vacation from their novels to sleep in. The place was dark, the chairs on tables. She missed the familiar hum of the espresso machines and switched the lights on. She could use a real coffee.

Just as she finished steaming her milk, she heard a clatter from downstairs. She turned off the machine and crept down the stairs. No one was supposed to be there that early. Was it a ghost? An interloper? She nearly tripped on the stairs—she hated that last step. She might die. Her last movement could be her tripping down the sta—oh. Of course it was Mike. She really shouldn't have been too surprised. He was working on a rather large cake of an impossible level of complication. She thought about poking him, but she figured that might distract him.

"Hey," she said. He pulled out an earbud and put down a piping bag.

"Hey. How's Jo doing?"

"Still sleeping. How's your post Christmas?"

"Terrible."

"Same." Mike looked at her.

"You doing ok?"

"I just…" Eva paused. "I just thought he was good, you know?"

"I know."

" It must have been Darcy," she said. Mike looked up.

"Who?"

"Darcy. The shit friend who's a shit person and I hate him."

"He sounds awful."

"He is. I know this must have been him."

"Is he that terrible?"

"Yes."

"You need some cake?"

"Yes." Eva flopped on the bench against the wall. "But don't wreck that one. It's too pretty."

"No, I'm not done yet." He ducked into a pantry and pulled out something equally impressive. Eva winced slightly as he cut into it and handed her a slice. Her reservations left her as she bit into it.

"Mike Lucas, you're the best. You're the friend every girl needs."

"Nice to know I'm handy to have around." She tucked her head in the crook of his neck. They sat for a while, eating cake.

"What time is it?"

"Just before nine. "

"Scheiße. I need to go open."

"Yeah, I should probably go put the scones in," Mike said. Eva stood and wiped crumbs off of her apron.

"Thanks for cake, dude."

"No problem. Glad to help."

"You were awesome last night, in case I forgot to tell you."

"If she needs anything…"

"Of course." Eva paused. "I should get up there."

"Probably." They looked at each other for a moment. Eva heard Vi call from upstairs.

"You should go," said Mike.

"Yeah," she said. She eventually found her way up the stairs.

* * *

"Hey Eva, haven't seen you in a while," Vi said, pulling chairs from tables.

"Yeah, it's been a while. Here, let me do that."

"I'd be happy to give it up," Vi said, wiping her hands on her apron. "So, tell me about Christmas."

"Eh, it's family. You love 'em, you hate 'em, and there's nothing much to be done about it. I was happy to leave early."

"How's Jo doing?"

"How'd you know?" Vi chuckled.

"You don't spend many of your mornings here. I figured something was up."

"Charlie dumped her."

"Shit," Vi replied. Eva started as she heard her boss swear, but quickly shook it off.

"My sentiments exactly."

"He seemed like such a good guy."

"I think he is. I think it's his ass of a friend."

"I don't know why you hate him so much," Vi said, pouring coffee beans into the grinder.

"He just…I can't explain it."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Of course not! He's disgusting and repulsive and awful."

"Sounds like you really love him."

"He's terrible and I hate him. Mike's the only decent guy in the universe."

"I doubt that."

"You think he's one of the bad ones?"

"No, of course not. He's just not the only good one."

"I don't think so. He's one of a kind."

"You like him?" Vi asked. Eva looked pointedly at the door leading downstairs. "He can't hear you all the way down there."

"As a friend, I guess. He's just…he's just Mike, you know? He's my best friend."

"Pity," Vi said. They were promptly interrupted by Roseanne, who desired a cranberry scone.

* * *

Eva's day at the Den went by quickly. After Roseanne had showed up, the rest of the patrons had showed up in a steady trickle, eager for their own convolution of espresso. After finishing the last red-eye with caramel swirl, she powered down the machines and wiped tables. It was late afternoon, and Vi had told her to go home early. She didn't need to be asked twice.

The subway arrived after minimal waiting, and she was lucky enough to find a seat. She slumped backwards, head knocking against the glass. The train was fairly empty, save for a sad-looking family, an Indian man reading a newspaper, and a rather attractive blonde creature sitting across from her. He looked at her strangely, but she was really too tired to care. She took little notice of him until he followed her off of the subway. It was late afternoon, and she wasn't too worried about him, but it struck her as odd when he lined up behind her to buzz into the building.

"I believe you've been following me," she said, still facing the door.

"I would apologize. It seems to be a terrible coincidence."

"Should I be worried?"

"I don't believe so."

"I haven't seen you around here."

"And yet, you're talking to me."

"I'm curious."

"And I'm Jamie, pleased to meet you." Eva turned around. His eyes sparkled.

"Smooth."

"It would help," he said, "if you told me your name."

"Eva."

"You come here often?"

"You're terrible."

"You're still talking to me," he said. His eyes flashed.

"I'm not sure why."

"What's say we get to know each other a bit better. Perhaps you could recommend a restaurant?" Eva half-smiled.

"I would, but I have a previous engagement."

"Tomorrow then."

"Must I?"

"I shouldn't force myself upon someone as lovely as you."

"What a gentleman."

"Life is short. You are hot. Go out with me."

"Tomorrow then," she replied. "Where should I meet you?"

"We do well on the stoop, but it's rather cold."

"I'm apartment 4B."

"Well, Curious Eva from Apartment 4B, I'll pick you up at eight."

"I'll see you then."

"I'd say goodbye," he said, "but we seem to be continuing in the same direction."

"How terribly awkward."

The two walked up the stairs, chatting easily. Jamie, who appeared to live on the sixth floor, dropped her off. She walked into the apartment to find a crying Jo watching TLC. _Four Weddings_ was on.

"They're just so happy," Jo sniffled.

"Because they found the right boy, honey."

"But I found the right boy!" Jo cried, dissolving into a new burst of tears.

"No. If he were the right boy, he would have known you were the right girl." Jo was silent for a moment.

"Is there any cake left?"

"A girl after my own heart," Eva said. "I'll go check." She went to the kitchen, and returned with a plate of cake. "Have you eaten anything at all today?" Jo shook her head.

"I didn't want to get up."

"Can I get you something that isn't cake?"

"Can I have backwards dinner?"

"Of course. Here, have this, and I'll go make you something."

"I think there's Chinese in the fridge."

"Good, I can't cook." Jo tried to smile, but couldn't seem to. Eva gave her points for effort. She finished with the microwave and fed Jo. She sat with her for a little while, then excused herself to go check on everyone else. Libba and Katie were still with their parents, but Maria was in her room, and Eva hadn't heard a word out of her since she'd gotten home.

"Hey," she said, poking her head in. "How're you doing?"

"Jo still crying?"

"She's a mess. I made her some dinner, but she didn't eat much. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Not much. She just sat and watched TV and cried. I would've stayed with her, but I can't stand the wedding shows."

"Guilty pleasure. Listen, can you keep an eye on her tomorrow night?"

"Like I was gonna go out?"

"Do you?" Eva asked. Maria rolled her eyes.

"Where are you going?" Eva smiled.

"I have a date."

* * *

"You look lovely," Jamie said as Eva stepped out of the apartment. She had pilfered something from Jo's closet without her knowledge, a tight, shimmery black thing. She thought she looked all right.

"You don't look half-bad yourself," she replied. He didn't, clad in a leather jacket of sorts—she thought it minimal protection against the weather, but to each his own—a sweater, and tan corduroys. His hair had been groomed into that messy sort of bed-head that had been fussed over for twenty minutes. Still, personal grooming was less than a detracting factor, and he looked cute enough.

"So," she said, "where are we going?"

"I'm sort of new to the neighborhood," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I was hoping you could help me out."

"Well, there's a rockin' Thai place a couple blocks down, if you're feeling adventurous."

"Well, milady," he said, taking her arm. "Thai it is."

They walked down the stairs and to the restaurant arm in arm.

"So," he said, sliding into his chair. "Tell me about yourself."

"Where to start, where to start. I'm an English major going for my grad at NYU. Being broke, I currently work at a coffee shop with my roommate. Actually, one of my roommates. I have four."

"Four," he repeated incredulously.

"Four. It's crazy. Jo, who does something in fashion. The twins, Libba and Katie, who are inseparable and in college, and Maria, who does…something. No one's really sure what."

"Tell me what it's like to work in a coffee shop," he said, pouring wine that had somehow appeared.

"Easier than expected. All the people I work with are great, always there to help you out."

"It's lucky to have people who want to help you."

"I've always been lucky," she replied. They were interrupted by a waiter. Jamie feigned indifference to the order and let Eva deal with it all. A flurry of Thai fell from her tongue, and the waiter hurried away. The restaurant was much busier that night than usual.

"So," she said, meaning to continue the conversation. "Tell me about you. Your hopes, dreams, deepest desires." He laughed.

"I possess very little of that caliber."

"Your name then."

"Jamie. Jamie Wickham."

"Job?"

"In process. I was a minister briefly, though it didn't really call to me. I tried for law, but it bored me to tears. I thought about being a doctor, but it seemed a bit extreme to go through all that school if I wasn't sure it was something to do, so I got a nursing degree. I'm doing that now."

The food arrived and the conversation continued. Jamie paid the bill and they walked home, arm in arm. They reached her floor, only to find a pacing Darcy. Jamie looked at him, then looked at Eva.

"I'll see you soon," he said, running up the stairs.

"What are you doing with him?" growled Darcy.

"It's no real concern of yours whom I spend my time with."

"I need to talk to you," Darcy said.

**Author's Note: Sorry to leave you hanging. Guess this is where it starts to get interesting. WHEEEEE!**

**Much love and best wishes,**

**Zoe**


	16. Fata Organa

"I need to talk to you," Darcy said.

"So talk. There's nothing stopping you."

"Can we go inside?"

"Jo's sort of a mess, I wouldn't want to bother her." Darcy's eyebrows knit. He shook his head.

"I'm not here to talk about Jo."

"Well, by all means, speak," Eva snarled.

"Eva, I…" he paused, turned, ran a hand through his hair, clenched his fist, and turned to look her in the eye. "I love you."

Eva stumbled backwards, finding purchase against the door. A vague sense of concern passed through Darcy's eyes, and he reached out to help. She recovered her footing and, seeing she was ok, he continued his monologue.

"You're insufferable. Obnoxious, obsequious, intoxicating. I can't stand you, and I love you. I shouldn't, and I know that. I'm me, and you're…well, you're you. You work in a coffee shop. You drink too much and you act as a child. You should be a mere distraction and yet, you aren't. I can't seem to get you out of my mind. When we kissed, I…I don't think the proper words exist. I was dead before I met you, and I lived well in my rotting state. You brought me to life. You…revived me."

"Hold up. I'm gonna stop you right there. This is a hilarious joke, but it's gone on long enough, don't you think?"

"Excuse me?"

"You hate me. You've always hated me. You're kind of a bitch, if you don't take too much offense to the term."

"I don't understand."

"And to think I thought you were brilliant. Well, I suppose you are, but perhaps…well, that's mean. I'm not going to say that."

"I'm to take it you are rejecting me."

"You couldn't have honestly thought…" she looked at him, confused. "You're serious."

"I'm rarely anything else. You think this is a joke?" Eva held herself from a fit of giggles. She always laughed when she was uncomfortable, but his eyes scared her. They smoldered and burning, green flashing. He was scaring her.

"Everything's easier when it's meant to be funny," she said, stifling her giggles.

"Because everything is supposed to be easy," he muttered.

"I'm not sure the proper course of response."

"You could accept me."

"I can't, you know that as well as anything."

"I fear you must explain."

"Please, you're a shit. You're an ass to me, but a lot of people are asses to me. I don't care, I have a thick skin. But it's your actions towards everyone. I have tried, repeatedly, to ignore the disparaging looks you give everyone. I consider Charlie a friend, and you're a friend of his, but you're terrible. Your friends are terrible. Don't think I've forgotten that waiter, the little snot. You act as if you're superior to everyone. I can't recall a single decent thing you've done, and to be honest, I'm not sure that's a bet I'd take. Everything you do is for you. You're incapable of acting outside of your own desires."

"This, from a woman who has experienced nothing, who knows me through one of my friends. You couldn't dream of the things I've seen."

"I've seen enough of you to know I could never be with you. Is everyone less worthy than you, everyone less experienced, less worldly?"

"You can't expect me to treat everyone as a king!"

"I expect you to treat people as humans. To not seek to destroy everything around you. What happened to you that you feel the need to destroy anything resembling a family?"

"Careful where you tread."

"Because I should be scared of you. Because everyone's scared of you. No, I will stand. I won't let you get away with destroying the life of a near sister."

"Excuse me?"

"Charlie and Jo. Were you so unhappy in your miserable, alone existence that you needed to shatter everything you see."

"I was protecting him."

"Yeah, sure. Protecting him, taking care of him. You couldn't take care of a goldfish," she said. She saw him tense up an, for a minute, she was truly scared.

"You find me utterly incapable, utterly without morals, without anything to recommend me." Eva leaned in towards him.

"I know enough to know that you are the last man I could ever fall in love with. I detest you, and thank you for making it so easy to respond. I would have harbored some guilt had you not attacked me in every semblance of the word. No, I am happy in this rejection, in escaping you. I mourn for Charlie, for your family, to have to live with you." Eva heard his teeth crack together and saw his hand rise. She winced backwards and closed her eyes, preparing for contact from his hand, but it didn't come. She opened her eyes. His face was flushed, his hands clenched at his sides.

"This is what you think of me. This is how I'm to be rejected."

"A heart for a heart."

"I see," he said. "Goodbye, Eva. I won't trouble you with my presence again." With that, he fled down the stairs, orange pea coat spreading and flowing down the stairs. Eva nearly fell to the floor in shock.

Her hands shook as she turned the key in the lock. The apartment was dark, the TV blaring. Eva slumped down on the couch, waking Jo.

"Hey honey, how's it going?"

"I'm alright," Jo said. "How was dinner?"

'Fine."

"Maria told me. How was the boy?"

"Alright."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, just a little spooked."

"There's probably still some cake in the kitchen."

"Thanks." Eva stood, staring blankly into the distance. She bypassed the kitchen and flopped onto her bed. She did not sleep well that night.

* * *

He was scaring her. He shouldn't do that. He should stop.

"This is what you think of me. This is how I'm to be rejected."

"A heart for a heart."

"I see," he said. "Goodbye, Eva. I won't trouble you with my presence again." He walked down the stairs, throwing the door open and wrapping his scarf tighter around his throat. It was cold outside. The wind nipped at his ears. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

What had happened to him? He, to have lost his heart to a near child. And to be spurned. No, it couldn't end like this. She couldn't have the final word.

He wandered through the streets, eventually ending up at his building. He hung up his coat, thought better of it, and tore the coat rack from the wall. He threw is, spear like, and screamed towards the glass that now lay smashed in the hall. He sank to the floor. So this was what heartbreak felt like. He hated her. Utter detest crawled through his heart, but it couldn't drown his love. He stood, kicked the debris from under his step, and made a cup of coffee. Hands shaking, he sat down at his desk and plucked a pen from the drawer.

* * *

Eva was wiping down the counter when she saw him.

"I'm not talking to you," she said.

"Nor I to you. Take it," he replied. She looked up. His eyes were red, dark circles pooling under them. He held out an envelope with her name curled in script on the front.

"Promise me you'll read it," he begged. She nodded but didn't move. He placed it on the counter.

"Goodbye, Eva," he said, turning and leaving. She picked up the letter, clutching it to her chest. She looked around. There wasn't really anyone there, and they could always ring the bell if they needed help. She ducked into the supply cupboard and, sitting against the shelves, hungrily tore open the letter.

_Eva, _

_ I used to have a way with words, but the talent seems to have left me over the years. I know not where to begin, though perhaps it is best if I first dispel with the charges laid against me. _

_ I am not a good person. I have never claimed to be, and I doubt I ever will become one. Perhaps the only excuse I can come up with is that I am a selfish individual. Charlie has always relied on me for help, for advice. He looked up to me, and I'm not sure I can say I always used that power with the best of intentions. When he was with Jo, it scared me. They were perfect together, and that scared me. I could lie to you. I could tell you I doubted her love for him, doubted his for her, or any combination thereafter of improbable attempts at moral superiority, but it's simple. I was scared of losing him. _

_ As to my near breach of personal space, I must tell you how your words have affected me. I grew up an only child in a very happy family. My mother died seven years ago, just after my 23__rd__ birthday. I can only assume to have known his motives his motives, but my father remarried about two years later, to an Elsa Catherine. Five months after that, my younger sister was born. My father died three years ago. I was a less than perfect role model, and Elsa won custody. I dealt with my personal issues and, about a year ago, after an incident involving my young sister being left alone in the apartment while her mother went shopping, I reopened the case. We now share custody, but Elsa is less than happy with the arrangement. I'm sure you can extrapolate as to how your words wounded me. _

_ There is perhaps a third part to this letter that needs to be written. I love you, most fervently. The day you kissed me; I cannot pretend it has not haunted my dreams. Every time we've spoken, every interaction we've had, I've played over a thousand times. There are more than 6,800 languages, and none translate the innermost desires I feel when your mouth curls into a smile. There are approximately 1,013,913 words in the English language and I can't think of the right ones to describe the crook of your neck as your hair falls past your shoulders. There is no combination of these twenty- six letters that can adequately explain how I feel when I'm near you, though four come the closest. _

_Eva, I'm not good. Nothing you said was incorrect, and I will not try to prove otherwise. I will do what I can to remedy all situations I have set awry. Just know that, whatever I have done, it was never with harming you in mind. I have written this letter a thousand times in the past few hours, and I don't believe I adequately say what I must, but there is nothing else I can do. I don't believe you will be hearing from me again. All the best in your future endeavors. I have no doubt you will be very successful. _

_ Ardently, _

_Darcy_

That bastard. That rat bastard. She knew he was repressed but, Jesus Christ. Ok, plan of action, she thought. First, don't cry. There will be no crying on this boat today. Second, please don't cry. Third, only cry a little bit?

No, she would be reasonable about this. It was only Darcy, right? Just that asshole who was obnoxious and infuriating at all times. She hated him.

He'd loved her. He really loved her. Had she been wrong to refuse him? He was rich and something resembling successful. He was absurdly beautiful. Objectively, of course.

No. She was starting to sound like her mother. He was a shit. A shit who wrote a damn good letter, but a shit nonetheless. She wouldn't force herself into loving someone just because he wrote her a letter. She wasn't living in a Jane Austen novel.

Ok, she thought, composing herself. She never had to see him again. This would be it.

She stood up, pulled herself together, and dried her eyes. She would be fine, and he would be history.

* * *

"Jo, I'm home," Eva said, dropping her keys into the bowl. "You here? I brought Chin—oh. Hey." Jo looked up from the couch, Charlie's hair sticking up and just barely visible from over the cushions. "I guess I'll just leave you to it," Eva said, skittering out of the room. She landed on her bed and took a deep breath. She looked up when she heard her door push open.

"Hey," Jo said.

"Anything you want to share?"

"We're back together."

"I gathered."

"It was amazing. He just showed up on the doorstep. He said something about misplaced advice, someone he shouldn't have listened to. He said he was falling apart without me."

"You guys were broken up for how long?"

"I just missed him so much."

"Guess you can be picking up your shift again."

"Oh shut up," Jo said, punching Eva in the arm.

"You can go back. You don't need to be with me."

"You ok? You look a little wrecked."

"I'm fine, go have fun." Jo smiled and stood, leaving the room. Upon her exit, Eva leaned against the headboard and began to cry.

**Author's Note: There isn't much to say. Hope you like it. **

**Happy Memorial Day, to those celebrating. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	17. Nodus Tollens

_Six Months Later_

"So, Ms. Barringer, tell me why you want to work in publishing?"

"Well, I've always loved books, being around them. It always made sense that I went into something with the production of literature."

"I see you were in process of your masters. Tell me why you're taking time off from your studies."

"I found that my experience was wanting. I'm hoping to extend out into the field before I continue. Financially, it had also become a strain."

"So you plan to finish your studies."

"As soon as it becomes feasible."

"Very well, Ms. Barringer. It was lovely talking to you."

"And you. I hope you'll consider me." The woman smiled sadly and led Eva out. Nearly immediately, her phone vibrated.

"Hey, Jo."

"How'd it go?"

"Eh, I don't think it went well."

"Jeez, Eva. This is the sixth publishing house you've interviewed at."

"I know, I can count. I did take math classes too."

"I still can't believe you dropped out of school."

"I did not drop out of school. I'm just…taking a break."

"Ok, sure. So, what's next?"

"Well, Vi said she'd keep me on until I found something."

"Yeah, but, Eva. You don't really want to be working at a coffee shop for the rest of your life."

"I know, I know."

"Here's what I think, I think you shot too high, too big. There's this tiny house that does books, mostly unknowns. Really brilliant stuff."

"Yeah, ok Jo. Listen, I'm about to go into the subway, I'll talk to you when I get home."

"Love you, darling."

"Bye, Jo."

Eva wandered into the subway. She was not going to cry. She was not a failure. She was just…looking for a job. It was the same problem ten percent of the country had, and she'd only been looking for a month. Really, she had a job, and Jo wasn't going to make her move out. She and Charlie had thought about moving in together, but that wasn't going to happen for ages. Maybe Maria would look out for her.

She crumpled into a seat on the train. Ok, she was not a failure. Not yet, anyway. She'd finished most of her credits. She just had to take a few more classes, pass a few more tests, and do her thesis. Then she would be done. And she was going to do that. It wasn't like she was going to quit. She was just taking a break.

She made her way topside and walked to the apartment. Everything was going to be fine. It was all going to be fine. She was just going to end up a barista. Oh God.

She slumped against an unknown building. Oh God. Oh God. She wouldn't succeed. Not ever. She would become Vi—there were worse things, but she wasn't excited for the inevitability. She would be fat and alone. She would die in a cramped studio apartment and her cats would eat her decaying corpse.

She collected herself. This was ridiculous. She was only 25. She wasn't going to die in the next two days, life wasted and deserving of the pity-filled glances she thought she was getting. She would bounce back. She always would.

She walked into the apartment and scrounged in the kitchen for a snack. It was just after noon, and she didn't have to be at the Den until three. She opened the fridge and heard a scrabbling.

"Hey, Jo."

"Ok, be excited. I have a thing for you."

"What?"

"Interview, tomorrow. It'll be great. Just dress well and you'll be fine."

"Jo, I'm not sure I'm really ready to get back on the horse or anything."

"Please, you didn't fall off the horse. Here's the address, just promise me you'll go."

"Why did you do this?"

"Because I want you to be happy."

"I owe you far too much."

"Don't thank me yet," she said, "but I'm pretty sure this one'll work out. There's lo mien in the fridge."

"Oh, you make me happy," she paused. "Hey Jo, thanks."

"Don't mention it. You've helped me out more times than I can count." Jo patted her on the back and left her in the kitchen to warm up her Chinese. She yawned and went to her room to change clothes. Off came the chic-yet-decidedly-individual pantsuit, on went the sweatshirt. It was hard to justify reheated takeout in nice clothes.

Eva went back to find her food scalding on the outside and tolerably tepid in the middle. She figured it was close enough and sat down on the couch, crossing her legs under her. Maria sat down next to her, laptop in tow.

"Hey, how'd the interview go?"

"Jo didn't tell you?"

"Jo doesn't talk to anyone much. Well, besides you and Charlie."

"Less than satisfactory. I don't think I got it, but the woman was a total bitch anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

"How're you holding up?"

"As good as can be expected. Jo, through some contact or another, has managed to find me something to interview for tomorrow."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"It's a publishing company. I have an address, and I'm to be there at ten. Is there anything else I really need to know?"

"What it's called, for a start."

"Irrelevant. They're not going to hire me because I'm absurdly under qualified for every position. I have no experience, and I've just spent the past two years of my life chasing a degree that, in reality, will do absolutely nothing. I mean, who gets a masters in English literature. I have nothing, nothing to recommend me."

"God, you sound like you're going insane."

"I think I might be."

"You want some ice cream?"

"Yes." Maria stood and walked into the kitchen. When she returned, Eva had taken to laying down on the couch in the fetal position.

"Hon, you can't eat like that." Eva reluctantly sat up and wiped her eyes, taking the bowl from Maria.

"So," she said, "How are you doing?"

"Can't complain. Series three might actually happen. They started shooting but, knowing Moffat… Eva, you don't have to listen to me."

"I want to."

"No, you don't. I'm just a crazy girl with a weird hair stripe who watches too much television." Eva looked at her.

"Maria, you are lovely just as you are." They were silent for a moment before Maria opened her mouth.

"Do you want to shop for ridiculous shoes online?" Eva nodded a vehement yes. They spent the next hour or so in this manner, speaking more than they had in months.

* * *

"Jo, do I really have to do this?"

"Of course you have to do this, or I'll stop covering your rent."

"Jo, this is ridiculous. I'm not going to get the job. I'll just wait until something else comes along."

"This is something coming along. Please, just go for me. We'll go out for lunch after. Besides, you look adorable. There's no way they won't give you a job."

"Only in your industry is that something of merit."

"Shut up, you're being annoying."

"Thanks darling."

"Go. You're gonna be late."

"I hate you!" Eva called out cheerily, walking out the door. It was nice, not having to wear a coat when she went outside. She hated job interviews. She gave herself this last one before she resigned to being a barista for the foreseeable future. It was a quick subway ride into the city, too quick. She could have used the extra time to collect herself. She hauled herself off of the train and into a rather neat office in an old brownstone. The waiting room was mostly modern with lots of black leather. Assorted book covers that she only recognized obliquely were framed on the walls. A woman who looked like she had stepped out of Mad Men was sitting behind a desk, typing into a preposterously large screened computer. Eva walked up to her with hesitance. The girl looked up and smiled.

"You must be Eva Barringer."

"Umm, yes. Yes, I am."

"Good, good. You're a little early, so if you want to sit. There are a few publications on the table."

"Sure, yeah."

"I'll call you when they're ready for you." Eva nodded and sat down. The few assorted magazines were lit things she had never heard of. She started flipping through them. They were good. Really good. She hadn't heard of any of the authors though. What the hell was this place?

"Ms. Barringer? They're ready for you." Eva stood, smoothing her skirt. The woman at the desk buzzed open a door for her and stood. "If you'll follow me."

Eva was led through a maze of hallways into a conference room. "Good luck," the woman whispered as she left. A man in a rumpled button-down and worn corduroys sat down in front of her.

"Eva. Can I call you Eva? Is that alright?"

"Fine. Yes."

"I like your necklace," he said. Eva clutched at the pendant.

"Thank you."

"Anyway, books and things. I read your resume. I haven't been to the Den in years. Vi still the same?"

"Just as lovely as ever."

"But you want to move on. You want to write, yes?"

"It's the hopeful end goal."

"Fiction or Non?"

"I'm not sure I have the patience to stick to things that previously occurred."

"I'm sorry?"

"Fiction, most likely. Creating things has always been a forte of mine—"

"Please, dispense with the formality. You're practically hired already."

"Excuse me?"

"Hired. You're practically already hired."

"How do you-?"

"I got it on good authority. Besides, I'm a quick judge of character. I'm Richard, by the way. So, you ditched school to join the working class, yeah? How're you finding it so far?"

"Terrible."

"Well, at least you've got your head on right. Tell me about yourself," he said, propping his feet on the table.

"Well, I dropped out of my studies because I had a panic attack about my thesis and wasn't ready to be done with school."

"I see. So you intend to go back."

"When I have the time and the capital."

"Indeed. So, and I'm only asking this because I'm meant to. What do you think you would add to Symposium?"

"Well…umm—"

"Say no more. Only the pompous twits want to change something the second they get here. You're hired." Richard took his feet off of the table and collected his papers. "Now, usually we have you go and meet everyone—we make it a point to have everyone involved in just about everything, for maximum experience- but Williams is out and there doesn't seem much point without him to intimidate you into leaving."

"Williams?"

"Mr. Williams. CEO. He owns the joint, bought us a very nice building." He looked at her. "What exactly do you know about us?"

"Only that you publish things and that I had an interview at ten." Richard chuckled.

"Symposium is an off-brand publishing house. We have no particular genre, no requirement for submission. We publish a few lit-crit magazines a year but, for the most part, it's novels. Everyone here reads everything, down from Williams to the receptionists. The number of novels that man goes through, but he thinks it's important that everyone read everything. You have any questions?"

"What exactly am I to be doing here?"

"I think copy-editing would be a good start. If you choose to stay here, you'll work your way up. And I know you want to be a writer—most of us do. If you want, we'd be happy to take a look at a few of your things."

"This sounds all too good to be true." Richard smiled as he opened the door for her.

"Most things are. I'll see you tomorrow at eight."

**Author's note: +10 for predictable plot devices! Anyway, hope y'all are still enjoying this. Also, spoilers but, if anyone works in publishing, I may be about to make you really angry with my bastardization of a business model. Sorry about that. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	18. La Cuna

Eva walked back to the train in a daze. She wasn't entirely sure she had actually experienced what her eyes had told her. A job. She had a job. A decent one. At least, she thought it was a decent one. What if copy-editor was code for prostitute? No, that couldn't be right. That would be ridiculous.

She plunked herself down into the seat and rode back out to Brooklyn, mentally reeling through what had just happened. She had a job at a crazy-ass unknown publishing house that she wasn't entirely sure existed. Well, at least the building was there, and it most likely would be tomorrow, so there was a t least that. She wouldn't hand in her notice to Vi yet. Chances are, she would still work weekends. It would do her well to actually pay off her credit card debt.

She got off the train and heaved herself up the stairs to her apartment. As she turned the key in the lock, she heard a thumping and felt the door pulled inwards.

"How'd it go?" Jo practically shouted.

"I got the job. Why are you so—" Eva was cut off as Jo picked her up and began to swing her about the apartment.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you."

"Jo, please calm down before you give yourself an aneurism."

"Ok, ok." Jo put her down and smoothed her skirt, but she couldn't get the smile off of her face. "It's just, I'm so happy for you."

"Jo, please relax. I don't know if it's really going to amount to anything. I'm not even sure it's a real place."

"Of course it's a real place." Eva raised an eyebrow.

"Speaking of which, how did you know it existed?" Jo took a step back.

"Mutual friend."

"Jo?"

"Don't worry about it. Oh, I'm so happy for you," Jo said, pulling Eva back into a hug.

"Jo?"

"Don't pursue it, darling. Just let it live."

"…Ok?"

"Oh, I'm so happy. We should celebrate. We should go out for lunch. You're at the Den this afternoon, yeah?"

"Yeah, I start at three."

"Are you gonna tell Vi you got another job."

"I was gonna try to stay working weekends so I can actually start saving money for once."

"Oh, of course. Sure. If you need any help…"

"You're in way too good of a mood. Did you do something bad that you're trying to cover up from?"

"Of course not."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Should I believe you?"

"Why not?"

"I'm suspicious."

"Don't be. Let's get lunch."

"Jo…"

"Lunch. Come on. I'm buying. There's this adorable little sushi place around the corner I've been meaning to try. It'll be fun."

"As long as I can be in the city by three."

"No problem. I'll get my shoes," Jo said, running back to her room. Eva slumped into her room, changing out of her interview attire. She still couldn't quite believe it. She fingered the pendant around her neck absentmindedly before shrugging on a pair of shorts. Maybe things were starting to work out.

* * *

Lunch passed quickly in a flurry of sashimi and seaweed salad. Jo kissed her goodbye and Eva began the trek back into the city. She pushed open the door to the Den, inhaling deeply. When she left, if she ever did, she'd miss the ever-present scent of scones. It reminded her of the home she'd never had.

She walked behind the counter and put her apron on.

"Hey, Eva."

"Vi. How're you doing?"

"Good, as always. How about you? How's the job hunt going?"

"Actually," Eva said, pulling trays out of the dumbwaiter and stocking the glass cases, "I think I found something."

"No kidding. Tell me about it."

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than I know myself. It's a small publishing house based out of someone's brownstone. I don't know much about it but—"

"Are you talking about Symposium?"

"Excuse me?"

"Symposium."

"You've heard of it?"

"Yeah, the guy comes in sometimes for coffee. Mostly before your time, but he's been here a bit recently. Williams, I think his name is. I'd have pointed him out if it'd been pertinent."

"So it's a real thing."

"Of course it's a real thing. Guy used to be a writer. He was pretty decent too. But he had some drama and ran away, traveled all around the world for a few years. No one knew where he went. When he came back, he settled down, stopped writing and started publishing. If you ask me, the writing world lost a great man that day."

"I've never met him."

"I've heard he takes a fairly hands on approach to the whole deal, so you should meet him before the jig is up. The real question is, will we still be seeing you around here?"

"I think so. I'm just copy-editing, so I don't think all the work needs to be done in the office, and I'm still not sure it's real."

"I promise it's real, but I'm happy to keep you on. I'll miss you, you know."

"I'm not gonna be around much less than I was before. It's just that I've replaced menial classes with a menial office job."

"Don't talk about it like that. This is gonna be good for you. You might even meet a man."

"Jeez, you sound like my mother."

"Eh, there are worse things. Here, can you go check on Mike? I haven't seen him in a while and I wanna make sure he didn't fall into the ovens."

"No problem," Eva said, walking down the stairs. She liked Vi.

"Hey, Mike!" she called into the blistering steam. He emerged, rubbing his hands on his towel, sweat soaking though his black tank top.

"Hey."

"I got the job," she said, scuffing the toe of her shoe into the tile.

"Congrats," he said, running over and giving her a bear hug. She stiffened. He pulled back. "We're glad about this, yeah?"

"Yeah of course. It's just…I'm not sure it's real."

"Why wouldn't it be real? It's a building, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And there're people?"

"Yeah."

"So why wouldn't it be real?"

"Because it doesn't feel real. It feels like some giant coincidence. Really, no one should be hiring me. I'm under qualified and crazed and all sorts of things that no one should hire. It just doesn't make sense."

"Listen to me," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You are a perfect individual who deserves everything good in the world."

"I'm not perfect."

"Shut up. You are a good individual who is absolutely going to make a difference. Besides, if it doesn't pan out, you could always move back to Meryton."

"Shut up," she said, smiling.

"No, I'm serious. You could move back in with your parents and—"

"Shut up," she said, wrapping her arms around his torso. They were quiet for a moment.

"Thanks," she said, pulling away.

"You're gonna be a little gross now, sorry about that," he said as he mopped his brow. "It's hot as hell down here."

"Don't worry about it. There are worse things."

"Like fake jobs at fake publishing houses?"

"I hate you."

"Not too much, I hope."

"I'm gonna go check on Vi."

"She's alive, but I'll take the hint."

"I hate you," she called as she climbed up the stairs.

"Love you too," he said to himself as he began to knead dough.

* * *

Eva walked into Symposium the next morning entirely unsure of what to expect. After buzzing her into the building, the helpful receptionist led her into a room, took her picture, and printed out an ID card that would let her into the offices. Eventually, Richard, looking haggard and hung-over, wandered in and found her.

"Eva, darling, let's get you all set up," he said, leading her into a small and neat office.

"This'll be yours," he said, gesturing vaguely to cover his yawn.

"Mine?"

"Yes, yours."

"I have an office."

"Of course. We expect you to work, so I figured it might be suitable to give you a place to do it. So, basically, there are some decent takeout places around. Rebecca, the receptionist, will let you know when stuff gets here. She's excellent at it, never mixes up anyone's Thai. Umm, let's see. We'll drop off the manuscripts here, there's a pile on that shelf over there. Read them, point out mistakes in any color other than black, and put them back on the shelf. If you get lonely, there's a sort of sitting room in the back with a few couches. That's where most of the editors sit."

"If you don't mind, could you show it to me?"

"Of course. Wouldn't be doing my job otherwise, would I?" Eva grabbed a few of the manuscripts and a red pen. They walked into the sitting room. A haphazard mix of professorial men and women were sprawled across a few couches.

"Everyone," Richard announced, "This is Eva, our new copy-editor. Please don't bite, she still thinks writers are nice. Eva," he said, turning to her. "I'm afraid I have to go. Everyone should be pretty nice, but keep an eye out for Geoff." Eva looked over at the man who she presumed to be Geoff. He rolled his eyes and adjusted her scarf. "I'll check in with you in a few hours," he said, leaving. Eva turned back to the group of writers.

"Here," a woman said. "You can sit next to me. I'm Cleo."

"Eva."

"Awesome."

"So, do you guys just sit here and do your thing?"

"Pretty much. It's really low-key, and it helps to have people to bounce off of. Technically, you really should just be doing spelling and grammar and things like that, but if you have any other input that you want to add, they're usually pretty receptive to that. Williams's is really good about involving everyone."

"Williams."

"Boss man. He's off on some thing, should be back in a few days. I heard he was having this huge trouble with his kid or something. A nasty ex-wife's probably the root of it, but he's a really private guy. He doesn't share all to much of his personal life with us."

"Is he a nice guy?"

"Oh, completely. He takes good care of us. Besides, he's gorgeous. What else do you really need besides someone to ogle at?"

"Amen," a darkish man with Zachary Quinto's eyebrows said.

"He really is too pretty," a girl with blue hair said. "Once, we took this company trip out to the beach. You would not believe—"

"What wouldn't I believe?" Eva heard from the doorway.

"Nothing, Mr. Williams, sir. Nothing at all."

"I thought not." Eva turned, and there he was. Darcy. Somehow. She hadn't seen him in ages, and he looked exactly the same. A crinkled white button-down and dress pants with shaggy hair. He seemed to have attempted at a beard, though he'd settled with stubble.

"Darcy," she breathed.

"Eva," he said quietly. He blinked. "If anyone needs anything, I'll be in my office." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Eva slumped into her chair, cursing under her breath.

"You know him?" Cleo asked hungrily.

"We've met." She looked down at the manuscripts and stood. "Could you tell me where his office is?"

"Top floor, end of the hallway," Cleo said, notes of confusion tingeing her voice. Eva nodded curtly and raced for the elevator. After wandering about the hall to steady her nerves, she found herself in his office.

"I'm sorry." He looked up at her, flipping his glasses to the top of his head.

"To what you are referring?"

"Oh, just calm the shit please. I'll resign and that's fine, I don't mind. It's not an issue. But it's going to be uncomfortable to work here, for both of us. And I don't want to do that to you, so don't worry. I'm sorry, and I'll leave."

"Really, Eva. There's no need to be quite so melodramatic. If you feel uncomfortable here, I'll do nothing to prevent you leaving. The last thing I desire to do is make you uncomfortable." Eva scuffed the toe of her shoe into the floor.

"I could really use the job."

"Then it's settled. Is there anything else?"

"No. Of course not, Darcy. I mean Mr. Williams. I mean, sir." He chuckled.

"Darcy will be sufficient, Eva." She nodded and skittered away, though she poked her head into the door just before she left.

"You wear glasses?"

"Recent eye trouble. Is it a problem?"

"Of course not, sir. Darcy. Shit." She pinched her thigh and ran out of the room back to the elevator. She could have sworn she'd heard him laughing as she left.

Just her bloody luck.

**Author's Note: Hope I'm not surprising anyone. How I love writing them together. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	19. Adomania

Eva. His most beautiful Eva. Why was she there? How had he been so lucky?

He struggled with himself, blinked, and fled the room. How long had it been? Six, maybe seven months since he'd seen her. And there she was, hair tucked up neatly, nervous smile pressed to her lips. Sure, he'd been gone a few days, but this was an awfully big change.

He stepped into the elevator and mashed the buttons, running a hand through his hair. Richard must have had something to do with this, but that didn't make sense. He'd never really told Richard about her, not in specifics anyway. They'd never met. It couldn't have been Charles; they hadn't spoken in months. He didn't have many other friends. Perhaps he'd have to chalk it up to coincidence.

He walked into his office, throwing his bag on the couch and falling onto his chair. He ran a finger across the desk. He's missed the building, the view. He pulled stacks of papers up onto his desk and unbuttoned the top of his shirt—a luxury he afforded himself only in the privacy of the top floor. Most were too scared to ever take him up on his offer to see him, and he was fine with the. He licked his finger and began to read. He paused when he heard a stamping down the hall. He looked up.

"I'm sorry."

"To what you are referring?"

"Oh, just calm the shit please. I'll resign and that's fine, I don't mind. It's not an issue. But it's going to be uncomfortable to work here, for both of us. And I don't want to do that to you, so don't worry. I'm sorry, and I'll leave."

"Really, Eva. There's no need to be quite so melodramatic. If you feel uncomfortable here, I'll do nothing to prevent you leaving. The last thing I desire to do is make you uncomfortable."

"I could really use the job."

"Then it's settled. Is there anything else?"

"No. Of course not, Darcy. I mean Mr. Williams. I mean, sir." He chuckled.

"Darcy will be sufficient, Eva." She nodded and skittered away, though she poked her head into the door just before she left.

"You wear glasses?"

"Recent eye trouble. Is it a problem?"

"Of course not, sir. Darcy. Shit." He laughed as she ran from the room, though he couldn't stop the panging in his chest.

She still wore the necklace.

* * *

Eva trotted down to the sitting room, where the editors sat. All were staring at her.

"What?" she asked, scuffing her shoe.

"You know him?"

"We met a while ago. One of his friends was dating one of my friends. We hung out a few times."

"Friends? Williams has friends?"

"One or two," Eva said, smiling.

"Well, dish!" Cleo practically shouted. "We want to hear all about our dear boss when he's not working."

"I don't really know him that wel—"

"Please, you know him better than we do. Spill. First off, were his abs a mirage that one time I saw them?"

"Sadly, no."

"Sadly, my ass," said the man with Zachary Quinto's eyebrows. "I'm Tom, by the way."

"Tom's in love with Williams," Cleo said.

"Am not. It's just mutual visual appreciation."

"Minus the mutual," Cleo replied, snickering. Tom snorted.

"So," said a woman with blue hair, "What's he like outside the work place?"

"A bit snotty, actually."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed that. He always seems so nice…"

"I don't know, I never really knew him that well."

"Does he dress like an old man all the time?"

"Yes, totally. Lots of sweaters. And the pea coat."

"Oh my God, the pea coat."

"Wait," Tom said, putting up his hand. "How long have you known him?"

"We met last fall some time, though I haven't seen him in ages."

"So, you might know what happened."

"What?"

"What happened just after Christmas. He did his vacation and came back and then something happened." Eva gulped.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We were never really close…"

"It was this HUGE shift. He stopped shaving, he didn't talk much—"

"He never talked much, Tom," Cleo said.

"Well, yeah, but he was a total mess." Eva stuttered to find an answer, but was rescued by Richard.

"Thomas, I know you can't be referring to our boss, so I shouldn't feel any need to report to him why you are not doing your work at this particular moment."

"No, Sir."

"Good, I'm glad." He turned to Eva. "You doing all right on your first day?"

"Yep, just trying to settle in," she said, attempting to steady the shaking in her knees.

"Excellent. If you don't mind, I'd like to meet with you before you leave this evening, just to check in after your first day."

"No problem, sir."

"There's no need to call me sir, Eva," he said, pivoting and leaving the room. "Have a nice day," he called behind him. Tom grumbled while Cleo and the rest snickered.

"Come on," Cleo said. "We should probably get a bit of work done. We'll order food in a few hours." Eva nodded and sat down. She opened the manuscript and began to read. It was good, impossibly good. She'd never heard of the author, but it was some mix of sci-fi and philosophy. She read for spelling and grammar, though she frequently forgot and found herself enveloped in the book. The hours passed easily as she flew into the story. Around two, the editors broke for lunch.

"So," Cleo asked as she bit into a sandwich. "Which one'd you get?"

"Sorry?"

"How the manuscripts work here, it's sort of odd. The authors get paired with one of the main editors, and they work through all of the main kinks in the story. When it's all mostly hammered out, they make however many copies, give one to each of the copy editors, and have them edit. Then, the main editor and the author synthesize all of the comments into the final draft. So," she popped a fry in her mouth. "Which one did you get?"

"The sci-fi philosophy one. Something about Tsia and her mentor, whom she is of course in love with, and the end of the world."

"Oh, yeah, I had that one. Pretty good. Weird-ass ending, though."

"What exactly gets published here?"

"Anything. Well, anything good. They tend to lean to the more avant-garde stuff; the ones that won't get published anywhere else. It's weird. They're never the best sellers, but there that things that should be. Richard's still mad because Williams is refusing to do something a la Fifty Shades of Grey."

"I can't imagine Darcy being into all that."

"Hey, a girl can dream," Cleo relied with a smile. Eva almost choked.

"Why do you all call him Williams?"

"He always gets weirdly uncomfortable when we call him by his first name. I don't know. I don't like getting more than my share of weird stares from the guy, so I just follow the crowd, you know? So, how'd you guys meet?"

"His friend was dating one of mine."

"That can't be it."

"Why not?"

"No drama? No grand fiasco?"

"Erm, not really."

"So you really can't tell us what happened six months ago?" Tom butted in.

"Wouldn't that be up to him to tell you?" Eva replying, raising an eyebrow. Tom groaned and settled into his sandwich.

"So," Eva said, meaning to start a conversation. "What are you reading?"

"Ugh, it's awful. I don't know how it made the circuit," Tom said. "It's this overwrought pseudo-biography of some trite relationship this chick had with one of her teachers. It's an interesting idea, but it just has nothing to carry it through. It's like someone wrote it in a month."

"I know the feeling," Cleo replied. "But I think this one actually has some promise."

"What did you get?"

"This very Lolita-esque high school experience from the perspective of the student."

"Looks like Williams is in a mood," Tom said. Eva swallowed.

"Does he pick everything?"

"Just about. There are a few preliminary readers that he trusts to go through them first, and then they filter it down to something manageable. After that, he reads them, then they get paired with an editor. If you feel up to it, there's always some sort of code hidden in the books he picks. A cipher in the titles or some meaning in the genre. It's one of his little games he plays."

"You'd think he wouldn't have time for those things."

"He likes puzzles," Cleo replied nonchalantly, taking a bite of her apple and returning to the couch to continue reading. Tom looked at Eva.

"If you find out what happened six –"

"Jesus, Tom. Stop bothering the poor girl," Cleo cried. "Eva, just let him know when he's being annoying. He'll usually stop."

"I know," Tom said, "And I'm sorry. But if you ever find anything out…"

"You'll be the first one I tell as soon as I know what happened." Tom smiled and hugged Eva. Mildly flustered, she sat down next to him on the couch.

* * *

Eva knocked on the door to Richard's office. He called out, and she entered.

It was messy, much messier than anything else she had seen since she had arrived. Piles of paper overflowed off of shelves. A bulletin board was covered in assorted letters that needed to be answered, and streamers of post-its seemed to fly from his desk. Stacks of books grew next to the walls, manuscripts mingling with the finished products. Richard appeared from under his desk, shirt untucked, and hair mussed. Eva could have sworn he had a post it sticking to his head, though he swatted it away when she walked into the room.

"Eva, yes."

"You said you wanted to see me before I went home."

"Yes, yes," he said distractedly. He blinked, then focused. "How was your first day?"

"Excellent," she replied. "Really good."

"You like everyone here. The people are nice."

"The food is good. It's all really good."

"Good, I'm glad. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Not really. I just don't know how you manage to get through so many books."

"Care and precision, I guess. Is there anything I can do to make your life easier, besides fire Tom."

"Fire Tom?"

"Little bit of an annoyance, isn't he. No matter. He's good at what he does. I think he just has a bit of a crush on our dear boss. Now, as to a company protocol to deal with. It's rather in custom that, at the end of a new employee's first day, he or she accompanies one of the higher authority out to drinks."

"Oh, Richard. I...umm…I can't. You see, well, I don't drink." Richard raised an eyebrow.

"Can't say I understand the decision, but there it is. Well, Ms. Barringer," he said, swinging out of his chair. "It was a lovely first day. I'll see you tomorrow." Eva bowed her head and fled from the room. She stopped back into her office and locked the door. She frantically dialed Jo.

"Hi, honey. Should I be worried?"

"No, it's just. I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Should I be worried about Richard? He just asked me out for drinks."

"What'd you tell him?"

"That I don't drink."

"Well, you didn't lie. Hold on." Eva heard some muddled whispers, followed by a giggle.

"Well, Charlie met him a few times, says he's nothing to worry about. You coming home for dinner?"

"Yep, see you soon." Eva hung up and began to pack her things.

* * *

"I can't say I didn't try, my man," Richard said, taking a slug of his beer. "She said she didn't drink."

"Didn't drink?"

"I don't know, man. Maybe if you'd asked her yourself, she would've come."

"Please, Richard," Darcy said. "Must you rub salt into the wounds of my incapabilities?"

"Yeah, actually. It's sort of my job."

"I can't believe I hired you. Nepotism belongs in the arts, not in publishing."

"Yeah, yeah. You gonna talk to her?"

"I don't know."

"Haven't you kept up this charade long enough?"

"Richard, I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on. You've hired her, you've gone through this huge thing. Just tell her you love her and be done with it."

"Technically, you hired her. I wasn't exactly consulted. And I already tried that, if you recall."

"Then find someone else."

"It's not like that. I don't think I could."

"Suit yourself," Richard said, knocking back the rest of his beer. "I'll be right back," he said, trotting off to the bar and a nearby blonde. Darcy stared into his hands and finished his drink.

**Author's Note: To no one's disappointment, I might be taking a break over the next week, just as time to figure some stuff out. But hey, we're on the home stretch...sort of. Hope you like it!**

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	20. Pâro

Eva pushed the door open to the apartment and walked to her room, shielding her eyes from the adorable and mildly disturbing tangle of limbs currently occupying the couch.

"Hi Eva!" Jo squealed.

"Please, don't let me interrupt. The girls home?"

"Maria's in her room, as per usual. I don't even know about the twins. We're gonna order pizza in a bit."

"Excellent," Eva said, ducking into her room and throwing her things onto her mess of a desk. It was just Darcy. No, Williams. Crap, what was she supposed to call him? Everyone called him Williams, but the name felt foreign on her tongue. Darcy flowed, curling in the syllables and traipsing out of her mouth, a simple melody burbling from her lips. Williams was wrong. It was all wrong.

She changed into an oversized t-shirt and some shorts. After a few months, she'd dropped the façade of being dressed around Charlie. It wasn't like he had noticed. He only had eyes for Jo.

She flopped onto her bed. She felt guilty, letting Richard down, but at least she hadn't lied. She had quit drinking, at least for the most part. She'd been able to let most everything he said go, but a few of Darcy's greater criticisms had stayed with her. She fingered the pendant lying on her chest. Damn the bastard.

Ok, it would be fine. He was just her boss, that was it. Really, it was an opportunity for a fresh start. She hated the bastard, but she'd missed seeing him around. Just for amusement's sake, of course. It wasn't like she actually liked the man. He was there as a character, someone peripheral to provide the occasional one-liner and detract from the main love story. She only wore the necklace because it was pretty. That was it.

She sat up and pulled the manuscript from her bag. She would have been really upset had she had to quit. The books were too damned good to drop that easily.

* * *

Eva woke the next morning, excited for the first time in a long time. It was starting to sink in. She had a job, and her job was reading. How she had laughed when Darcy had first said that so long ago. God, that vacation. It had been an eternity ago. She barely remembered it, though the important bits still haunted her. She'd kissed him. She felt like stabbing herself in the stomach every time she remembered it. She retched slightly as she pulled her clothes on. No, she would not let anything deter her from being excited. She had a job, she had friends at said job, and Vi hadn't fired her for doing the career equivalent of sleeping around. Things were starting to look all right.

She yawned as she poured coffee into a mug. How domestic, she thought as she stirred in the sugar. Granted, it was a cup of instant, but she was tired. How could one be expected to make coffee before having had coffee? It was maddening, how people managed without the stuff. She knocked the rest of the cup and retreated to her room, collecting her belongings off of her mess of a desk. She'd worked until late in the night, a concept entirely foreign to her, even having gone through college. She'd never been too good at focusing late, but she'd been enraptured in the books. Say what she wanted about Darcy—shit, his name was Williams—but the man could pick a book.

She slung her back over her shoulder and made her way out of the apartment. She locked the door behind her, turned, and promptly walked into a rather tall figure occupying the stairwell.

"Eva, fancy seeing you in a place like this."

"Jamie. Hi." She swept a stray curl from her face, inwardly groaning at the encounter.

"You haven't been returning my calls, darling."

"Please don't call me that." The man put his arms up.

"I ain't gonna push, honey, but I really think we could have something together. Go out for drinks with me."

"Jamie, we talked about this. I don't drink anymore, and I'm not dating right now. I just want to focus on my career. That's it."

"No one said anything about a date."

"Then it must have been a different Jamie on my voicemail."

"Ok, look, that was one time—"

"Listen, dude, I don't know what your problem is, but I cannot deal with this right now. I'm not interested, and for the love of God, you are hitting on me shamelessly at eight in the morning. At least have the decency to wait until after the hell of the work day."

"It can't be bad, now that I've seen you." He leaned against the wall, trapping her against the door. "Come on, baby."

"I have a taser."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Don't try me."

"Eva, you're making a mistake!"

"Bye, Jamie," she called, finally managing to push past him and escape down the stairwell. Rat bastard.

She threw her bag higher on her shoulder and meandered over to the subway. She found a seat, scrunched in next to a crying woman and a homeless man. She thought it an ill omen that she considered this lucky, but so went Manhattan.

The rest of the walk to Symposium passed in a blur of summery warmth. How she loved being away from the cold. She buzzed into the building with a smile on her face, convinced that she was one of the few people in the city utterly content to go to work.

Rebecca greeted her as she walked in. How that woman managed to look so chipper so early in the morning was a complete mystery. It was downright disgusting. Eva continued on, dropping off her things in her office, grabbing the new manuscripts, and sitting down in the lounge with the other editors. Most had yet to arrive, considering the hour of the morning. The hours passed easily. Men and women swam in and out of her vision as she drifted through the new story. Cleo arrived, noiselessly sitting beside her. Tom managed to be less inconspicuous. They broke for lunch around one, each discussing the new books they read. Eva spoke the praises of her new acquisition, the story of a man and his beloved ship speeding on towards another new world. Cleo was less ecstatic, wandering through the world of a ponderous librarian and her lecherous boss. Tom barely deigned to discuss his book, as he had yet to finish the drivel he had procured yesterday. After lunch, the hours passed quickly, with no sign of their boss.

* * *

Eva stayed on late that evening, keen to finish the books she had started. After the rest of the editors retired to their homes, she meandered to her office. Rebecca had poked her head in, reminding her to turn off the lights. Apparently, it was a shock for most to stay after six or seven. Actually, Eva had noticed that many had left around three. One of the perks of editing was, apparently, that you could take your work home. But, Eva figured Charlie was going to be in the apartment, and she didn't really want to be home yet.

The streets outside of her window grew rife with the sounds of rush hour. The room grew dark with sunset and she stood to flip the switch. She turned and walked back to her desk.

"You're here late," she heard from the doorway. His hair stuck up in the odd angles it favored, and his tie hung loosely around his neck, the top button of his shirt undone. His glasses rested lightly on his nose, and he moved them atop his head to itch at his cheek.

"Yeah, just wanted to get some work done."

"May I come in?"

"You own the building."

"That's not an answer." She smiled despite herself.

"You can come in." Darcy's face curled in the illusion of a grin as he sat down in the chair opposite her desk.

"Richard was terribly upset you wouldn't join him last night."

"I felt bad, it's just that I can't really spend too much time in bars now. Makes everything harder."

"Why?" he asked.

"It's a little pointless when you can't imbibe." Darcy raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickering.

"A rather large decision you've made since we last spoke."

"I can't pretend I have the moral high ground. It just grew to be an expensive taste," she managed, the lie curling off her tongue. He looked at her for a few moments. The silence itched at her ears.

"And you're enjoying it here."

"Oh, very much so. You've picked such marvelous books, and I'm trying to figure out the code."

"Code?"

"In the books you pick. Tom told me all about it."

"I assure you, it's far too easy to understand when looked at from the proper perspective. All it takes are a pair of fine eyes." He paused. "Is there anything I can do to help the transition? I know how hard it can be, these sorts of life changes."

"You could come out of your lair every so often, maybe say hi to the peons."

"I've found I make them…uncomfortable."

"Please, half of them are in love with you." His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.

"So you suggest, in order to make you more comfortable, I spend more time with the editors."

"Oh, it has nothing to do with my comfort. It's just a suggestion. I don't really care where you are. No, that came out weird. Can we strike the past few minutes from conversation?"

"I'll coddle my vanity and say yes. So you're enjoying the books."

"Definitely. How do you find them?"

"People send them to us. Then we put them all together, and then it's a book. Fairly simple, actually."

"Hilarious."

"Indeed," he said. Why did he stare so much? Did she have something in her teeth? Oh God, she had something in her teeth.

There were a few more moments of silence while she pondered her current state of dental cleanliness. Eventually, he stood.

"Eva, if you ever need anything, please let me know." She nodded, unsure of how to respond. He ducked his head and walked away, though returned briefly.

"The system's on so, when you leave, just make sure you shut the door all of the way. I'll see you tomorrow." Before she could reply, he was gone, her lone office light flickering in the building. She slumped into her chair, unable to focus on the book she had previously been reading.

How did she always manage to say the wrong thing? It was damn impressive at this point. Come out of your lair? Who even says crap like that?

She threw her legs onto the table, leaning back and closing her eyes. To think that this man had confessed his love for her. He seemed close enough to ambivalent now, thought it wasn't like she could blame him. She'd done this to herself, cast him away from her. She would just have to live with her decisions.

She sat properly in her chair but couldn't seem to focus. Eventually she gave up, packed her bag, and shut the door to Symposium.

* * *

The journey back to the apartment was easy enough. The subway was empty, a welcome respite from the usually packed one she took home most nights. The tunnels whirred by her in their waves of grime and filth. She took a deep breath and felt content. Not quite happiness, but pure contentedness that stretched from her fingers to her toes and trembled through her body.

She got off at her stop and walked the few blocks to her apartment. She ran up the stairs, hoping to avoid Jamie, and opened the door. Jo met her. Charlie was over. Did she want some dinner? Was she sure? Eva passed through the living room and shut the door behind her, flopping onto her bed.

Everything was going to be fine.

Perfectly fine.

**Author's Note: Sorry my weeklong hiatus was actually a month. I'm not promising super regular updates. This stupid thing has actually gotten phenomenally stressful over the past few months. The only was I was able to keep posting was because I'd written most of it ages ago. I'm not gonna fake my own death or anything (too soon?) but you guys are all excellent and thanks for reading. It really does mean so much to me. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	21. Mimeomia

He meandered to his apartment slowly, relishing every step. She was there, there with him, and it seemed as if she meant to stay. She was happy. He'd seen to it that she'd gotten the good books, the ones he'd especially liked. Richard had been happy to foist the more ridiculous ones onto Thomas, at least for now. She'd have to read them eventually, but he could do what he could to prevent her suffering for as long as possible.

His messenger bag bumped rhythmically against his thigh, punctuating his thoughts.

He still couldn't quite believe she was there. It had been so long since their winter interlude, since their first kiss. It had haunted him since it had occurred. He relived it every night, aching for more. His imagination was more than happy to provide what it could, but he ached for her, though it wasn't just her. He ached for the morning after. He ached to watch her sleep, her curls pooling on the pillow, sheets spread haphazardly over her body. The gentle tremor as her eyelids fluttered open, and the smile that would spread across her lips as she saw him. Wishful thinking, he admitted to himself with melancholy.

The evening breeze wove itself through his hair, tickling his scalp and ears. He loved summer in the city, the evenings most ardently. A gentle warmth washed over you, surrounding you and cocooning you. Amidst the cabs and cars and trolleys, you found solitude.

He walked up the steps to his building, tossing his bag onto the couch as he entered. He really needed to replace that coat rack. He scratched his head, yawned, and went to forage for dinner.

Laziness prevailed and, clutching a turkey sandwich, he walked up to his room, throwing himself onto his bed. He finished the sandwich in a few bites, pondered returning for more food, and decided against it. He stood, wiping the crumbs from his shirt, and prepared for an early night.

He brushed his teeth slowly, his mind full of her. He spit, rinsed, and looked in the mirror. Should the stubble stay? He'd thought about going out to a full beard, but he wouldn't want to scare any of the interns.

He peeled his shirt from his body, throwing it in the basket. He looked down at himself. He admitted that, perhaps he'd gone a bit overboard. The only things that distracted him from her were the grueling workouts he'd started putting himself through in college. So what if he'd needed to buy new clothes? So what if his previously perfectly acceptable undershirt was, at this particular moment, straining against his body. So be it, he said, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed, swatting at the leftover crumbs from his sandwich. He switched off the light.

It had been ages since he'd gone to bed early. He was an easily fixated man with a tendency for insomnia, and she'd proved a worthy adversary. He drifted slowly to sleep, thoughts filled with her.

* * *

_A Few Days Later_

Eva sat with the rest of the editors, poring through their books. Richard appeared, as if by magic.

"Eva, darling, Williams's wants to speak with you," he said curtly, turning on his heel and stalking away.

"What's up his ass?" Tom asked. Cleo began to giggle.

"I'm trying. I'm really trying," she managed to mumble through her laughs. Tom rolled his eyes.

"You're a child, Cleo."

"Thanks, hon," she replied. She turned to Eva. "What do you think it's about?"

"I don't know. Really hope he's not gonna fire me."

"I doubt it. You've been a model individual. Anyway, I'm getting hungry. I say, after you go deal with boss-man, we go to Chipotle."

"Oh, you know a way to a woman's heart," Eva said as she stood up. "Be back in a jiffy." She heard Tom begin to grumble as she walked away.

"You never take me to Chipotle," he said in a huff. Eva laughed as she stepped into the elevator.

She wasn't sure whether she should be worried about being called into Darcy's office. They'd seemed to be getting along alright. At least, they had been a few days ago. She hadn't seen him much since. Richard, in his huffy snippets to her, had said something about him being impossibly busy so would the editors please not bother him unless it was actually important. He made special point to remind Tom that no, the company policy against Greek food in the office was not important business. Eva didn't see the problem with feta or no feta, but Tom considered it an outrage.

The elevator pinged onto Darcy's floor, and Eva made her way to his office. She thought she heard shouting but, when she walked in, he was just there, his stupid hair looking even more stupid than usual, all floofed up and all over the place. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses then, realizing she had arrived, sat up.

"Eva, yes, I called for you, didn't I?"

"Yep."

"Just wanted to check in and see how your first week went."

"Good, actually. Really good."

"Anything that needs to be done or seen to?"

"Is Richard still offended? He's acting all funky around me."

"I'll talk to him. It isn't fair to be making you uncomfortable."

"No, no, he's not making me uncomfortable. I just wanted to make sure I didn't do anything too grievous."

"Of course not. I'll let him know."

"That's all I can think of. Tom wanted me to ask about the Greek food." Darcy rolled his eyes.

"One of Richard's policies, presumably created to prevent Tom from acquiring his feta. I don't understand it. That man loves his personal vendettas."

"Should I be worried?"

"Of course not. He wouldn't do anything to you."

"So, yeah, nothing I can think of."

"I'm terribly sorry to shoo you out," he said, scratching his head, "but I have another meeting and—"

"Say no more, I'll be out in a sec. Cleo and I are going to Chipotle, so."

"Good, good," he said distractedly. Eva nodded awkwardly and stepped out of the room, nearly walking into the burly man heading into Darcy's office.

"Cal," she said, shocked that she recognized him. Cal seemed to whir through a mental Rolodex before placing her.

"Eva," he said. "Of course. How've you been?"

"Excellent, but I miss Netherfield."

"Every day not spent down there is a bit of a waste. Listen, if you ever need the plane—"

"It might be an abuse of company property, but I'd be happy to take you up on it." The pilot smiled and excused himself, shutting the door to Darcy's office behind him. As she walked into the elevator, she heard the men's voices raise.

* * *

"So, they were shouting. Like, really shouting?" Cleo asked before popping a chip into her mouth.

"I don't know. Should I be concerned?"

"You and boss-man really hang out, don't you?"

"Shut up, it's not like that. I'm just worried about the poor bastard. He's been looking a little haggard recently."

"He's been looking pretty swole recently." Eva giggled.

"I've been trying not to notice."

"Ugh, and he's so frigging unattainable. It's like how I spent approximately eight and a half years in love with my gay choir teacher."

"I wouldn't consider it exactly the same ball-park."

"God, that's embarrassing to think about," Cleo said. Eva picked at her burrito.

"I'm just worried. Cal's a nice guy. I can't imagine him actually shouting?"

"Cal?"

"The guy who walked into Darcy's office."

"And you know his name...why?" Eva's eyes widened.

"You know what? Forget I said anything."

"Eva."

"Ok, Cal's Darcy's pilot."

"Go on."

"So, you know how I told you that one of my friends was dating one of his friends, so that's how we knew each other?"

"Sure."

"Well, I work at this coffee shop with one of my friends, Jo. You'd love her. She's the sweetest thing on two legs. She's dating Charlie, who is also the sweetest thing on two legs. Charlie is phenomenally rich and has a private island, where he invited Jo to spend a few weeks with him last december. For some reason, he didn't want to go alone, and he invited me. Darcy was there too. We flew down in his jet. Cal's the pilot."

"Hold up. You spent a few weeks on a private island with boss-man?"

"Yeah. I thought I would have to quit when I realized he owned the company."

"Dude, this sounds like a bad romance novel."

"Shut up," Eva said, resisting the urge to giggle. It was all pretty ridiculous when she said it out loud. At least it felt good to get it off of her chest.

"So," Cleo said, "spill. I want to hear all of the lovely Caribbean stories. There has to be something cute our lovely boss did on a tropical island." Eva's hand instinctively clutched her necklace. Cleo's jaw dropped.

"Shut up," she said.

"What?" Eva replied.

"That." Cleo pointed. "He gave you that?" Eva's eyes widened in shock.

"How did you-?"

"I'm good at people."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh my God."

"You can't tell anyone. Not even Tom."

"Please, I don't tell Tom anything. Oh my God. I can't believe... oh my God."

"That was about my reaction, actually."

"This bad romance novel just got even more ridiculous."

"Yeah, this bad romance novel is my life. But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Of course, of course. I just-" Cleo said back in her chair. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"Wow."

* * *

Eva walked back to the apartment with mixed emotion. Sure, it had felt awesome to get all of that crap off of her chest, but she hadn't told Cleo the more scandalous bits of the story, so she didn't really feel that much better. Of course, she probably would have felt worse if she had spilled everything. After all, she'd only met this girl a week ago.

She hauled herself up the stairs, entirely exhausted by what had been a rather emotionally straining week. She rubbed her eyes as she reached her floor, only to find a small mousey man cowering near her door. She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"Shane?"

**Author's Note: Yay, things are getting interesting. Have a nice long Darcy POV. If you enjoyed, thank Liu, who seemed interested in the prospect. Happy Fourth, to those celebrating.**

**Much love and best wishes,**

**Zoe**


	22. Lalalia

"Shane?" The man turned around and smiled.

"Eva, how great it is to see you again." He moved in as if to kiss her on the cheek, seemingly thought better of it, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, it's a pleasure," she said, raising an eyebrow. "To what do I owe it?"

"Can't a man visit an old acquaintance?"

"Not without reason." The man shuffled.

"Have dinner with me."

"Shane, I-"

"For old time's sake," he pleaded. Eva sighed and looked at her watch.

"It's a bit early."

"Drinks then."

"Shane, I stopped drinking."

"Real pity. You were always so fun when..." he stopped as her eyes narrowed. "It isn't of importance. An early dinner."

"Alright, what were you thinking?"

"Oh, I don't know. You live around here. You pick."

"There's a decent Chinese joint down the street."

"Oh, you know how soy reacts with my stomach."

"Right, and you still don't do too much spice," she said as Shane nodded, "So Indian's out. There's a half-decent diner down the street. You eat burgers?"

"I'm actually a vegetarian now."

"Shocker," she mumbled under her breath.

"Pardon? I didn't catch that."

"Nothing. They do a pretty good veggie burger."

"Well then," he said, "Burgers it is."

"Awesome. Lemme just go change real quick."

"Of course, fair lady. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable." Eva opened the door. Shane hesitantly stepped in. Thankfully, it seemed as if Jo was over at Charlie's.

"If you wanna sit in the living room, I'll be out in a minute." Eva didn't wait for a response and shut the door to her room. Jesus Christ. She was not emotionally prepared for this right now. She hadn't seen Shane in what, a year or two? She'd moved in with Jo just after they had broken up, and that had been...yeah, almost a year and a half ago. She was perfectly content she hadn't missed the snivelling little bastard, but that was irrelevant. He'd been a part of her life for however many years. She figured she owed him at least a dinner.

She threw a fresh dress on and walked back into the living room, running into Maria in the hall.

"What's the creepy mousy man doing in our living room?" she whispered, gesturing to Shane as he perused their bookshelves.

"That's Shane." Maria raised an eyebrow. "You know, the guy I dated for like two years before I moved in with you fools."

"Oh, that creep. Why's he here?"

"I don't know, he just showed up. We're going out to dinner."

"He totally wants to get back together with you."

"Ew."

"Yeah, even I'd pick arsey Darcy over him." Maria said, flouncing away from the death glares Eva sent her way. Finding no other reason to prolong the inevitable, she walked towards Shane.

"Eva, I'm delighted to note that your literary tastes haven't changed a bit. I too enjoy the finer points of Fitzgerald. Of course, I do beg to differ on that abomination of a new movie. In fact, if you would be so kind as to discuss with me your opinion. I'm always intrigued to listen to alternate points of view. As a dear, dear associate of mine once said- and she is really the sort of person who knows of such things, she has such a keen sense of the world around us-"

"Shane, we should go."

"Ah, but of course, my lady. Why should we care to do anything else?" Shane rushed to open the door for her. She groaned inwardly and continued, walked down the stairs. He trotted to catch up with her.

"You know, Eva, I truly have missed our rather stimulating conversations."

"I wasn't aware you ever listened to my side of the conversation."

"But of course," he said, smile burgeoning on his face. "I've always found what you had to say inherently fascinating."

"So-"

"In fact, I do distinctly remember your theory on the philosophy of multiple universes. Of course, it has to be said that you neglected to realize the inherent problems with the parallelism, which probably has something to do with your lack of knowledge on particle physics-"

"Shane-"

"But, I do think that if you brushed up on your string theory, you would be delighted to find that, actually, contrary to most popular belief on the subject-"

"SHANE!" she shouted. He stopped and looked at her.

"Why, Eva, whatever is the matter?"

"We're at the restaurant."

"Ah, but of course. I'd be keen to continue this conversation inside," he said, pushing open the door. Eva groaned again, not really caring if he heard her.

They sat down in the sticky red booths of the diner. The gum-chewing waitress dropped a few menus down, then retreated to her perch at the counter. The place was mostly empty at that hour, save for a sad-looking man drooping over a cup of coffee.

"Now, Eva, what would you recommend? I don't tend to frequent restaurants such as this fine establishment, and I would be delighted for any sort of guidance regarding any particular culinary forte."

"The burgers are good. They do all-day breakfast, if you're into that sort of thing."

"I've always wondered what the governing idea behind the concept of all-day breakfast was. You see, in Ancient Greece, it was commonly believed that the first meal of the day actually was to be regarded as-"

"I think some people just like eggs at night."

"But of course." There were a few blissful moments of silence as Shane pondered the menu. After a decent enough period of time, the waitress ambled over.

"What do y'all want?" she said.

"Burger, rare, with fries and a side of green goddess, coffee to drink," Eva said.

"You got it." She turned to Shane.

"Well," he began, "There are so many options. I think I'll have the pancakes, oh I do love pancakes."

"What kinda toast?"

"Hmm, let's see. I guess I'll have white toast."

"Any meat with that."

"No, I'm actually a vegetarian. it's a funny story, actually-"

"Whad'ya want to drink."

"Chocolate milkshake, please. Eva, do you remember when..." Shane continued to ramble as the waitress made her escape. Eva sunk lower into her seat as the time wore on, but mercifully, the food came quickly.

"So," Eva said, biting into her burger and wolfing through the first half, "How'd you find me?"

"Well, I was back in Meryton, and I ran into your parents. We got into a bit of a conversation, and they happened to mention that you were living in New York. I said I wanted to see you, and they gave me the name of the coffee shop you were working in. So, I visited, ran into Jo, and thought I'd stop by."

"Why? It isn't like you. What did you come to talk to me about? Don't pretend you just showed up out of the blue and felt inclined to go to a diner."

"Well," Shane said, picking at his pancakes. "It's an odd story."

"Just spit it out, for once in your life," she said. He looked at her.

"Charlotte and I are getting married."

"Married?" she said, dropping her burger. "You can't be getting married."

"I know it seems early, but I think she really is the one."

"You can't be marrying Charlotte."

"I know you guys were friends."

"Yeah, we were. That's the proper word."

"Look, I know it was messy."

"I came home and found her in your bed. It could-probably should- have been messier."

"Eva, you hated me, and don't pretend that's not true. Look, I know, for all of my long-windedness and my tendency to be at least slightly annoying all of the time, I... I know I'm not an easy person to live with. i know that. You knew that. Hell, I can see you straining to leave now. We were never meant to be together. But Charlotte?"

"Charlotte can go-"

"She wants to see you."

"She can't."

"You saw me."

"You're a stupid little man. She should have known what she was doing."

"Look," he said, standing and throwing money on the table. "I just wanted you to hear it from me." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It was really great to see you, Eva. I know it's a long shot, but if you would come to the wedding..." Shane took Eva's glower as an answer, ducked his head, and left. Eva pushed her fries away from her, no longer hungry. The waitress sauntered over.

"Need me to send Joey out to take care of him?"

"No, Donna, it's fine. Thanks for putting up with him."

"Hun, you deserve a medal for dealing with that snivelling idiot. You want some cheesecake?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Go home, then. Consider yours on the house. You want Joey to walk you out?"

"I think I'll manage, thanks." The waitress gave her a sad sort of smile.

"These things all work out, don't you worry." Eva nodded, willing her eyes not to tear up, and began walking back to the apartment.

Shane was getting married. Shane and Charlotte were getting married.

This couldn't be happening.

It wasn't like she still loved him. He'd been terrible. Hell, she'd hated him for most of the time they had dated, but he had been hers. He'd been someone to come home to, someone to bitch to about her day. He'd always had a dinner on the table, eager to talk about anything. Granted, he'd spent most of the time talking himself, but that was irrelevant.

Was she getting old? If people she knew were starting to get married...Oh God. Her mother was going to be all over this. If her mother had gotten her way, she and Shane would have gotten married ages ago. She'd said as much to Eva, something about wanting grandbabies before it was too late. Perks of being an only child, Eva figured.

She pushed open the door to her apartment. The twins must have been out, and Jo wasn't home. Maria was probably around, but her door was closed and Eva didn't really have the energy to bother her. She changed into her pajamas and began to brush her teeth.

No, there was no need for her to get married. She pushed at her hair, frowning into the mirror. She could nearly hear her mother's voice in her head.

"You know," her drawl echoed in Eva's skull, "You really have to catch a man while your young. No one wants to hitch their wagon to an old tired horse."

Eva walked back into her room and, for the umpteenth time in the past few weeks, curled into the fetal position and began to cry.

**Author's Note: Well, at least it's an update. People were wondering about the lack of a Mr Collins and a Charlotte. In redesigning the story for a modern AU, I wanted to give Eva that same close friendship with someone but have nasty wicked history of a friendship gone wrong. So, in the traditional role of Charlotte, we have Cute Mike. Thought it might be good to elaborate on that. To me, it seemed interesting to have Eva at a pivotal shift in her life at the beginning, not just experience a romantic shift throughout the story. But hey, that's just me. If y'all have any questions, comments, concerns, etc, feel free to inbox me. I love talking to you all. Thanks for putting up with the weird update schedule. It's been a weird summer.**

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	23. Midsummer

Eva woke Saturday morning eager to return to the Den. Had it really been only a week since landing the job at Symposium? It was odd, how quickly she had settled into working there. She thought about falling back into the pillows and claiming another couple hours of sleep, but it seemed better to wake up. God, what was happening to her?

She propped herself up against the wall, glancing at the stack of manuscripts she had pilfered from her office. She wondered how long it would take before it became a job for her. she guessed it was just one of those things that seemed too good to be true, and would reveal its ugly self eventually. For now, she let herself be excited, and picked up one of the books, eagerly diving in.

It was an hour or so before she realized she ought to get dressed and go to work. She dressed , she figured a tank top and yoga pants would do nicely. Vi was fairly lax about the dress code.

Eva walked into the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She yawned, stretched, and ate. She wasn't sure where everybody was, but the apartment was quiet and she relished in it. She put her bowl into the sink and grabbed her things, meandering outside into the subway. It was close to empty that early on a Saturday; Eva figured most of the city was still in bed, hungover from the night before.

The train reached her stop, and she stood, lost in her own mind. How many times had she taken this train? Hundreds? It couldn't be thousands, not yet. She might have had this exact train, maybe even this car. And how different things were today. A week ago, she'd been cursed to destitution. Now, for the first time in her life, it seemed as if things were coming together.

Except for the fact that the man she had spent however many years of her life with was marrying her best friend, with whom he had cheated on her. And the fact that she was living with four girls, three of whom were crazy and one of whom was presumably getting engaged in the next few months. Oh, and she had spilled her guts to one of her coworkers at the job where she worked for the guy she had accidentally kissed in the Caribbean. The guy she thought she might be-

No. She wouldn't think like that. Things were looking up. She was sure of it.

She pushed open the door to the Den. That early on a Saturday, there were few customers. Vi was manning the counter. When she saw Eva, she launched herself towards the door, wrapping the girl into a hug.

"Oh, I've missed you."

"It's only been a few days."

"I know, I know. It's just that I was so used to seeing you all the time. How's the new job going?"

"Oh, it's awesome. I love it, everyone's been really great."

"You look a little more upset than that description merits."

"It's complicated."

"You have the long shift and I have nothing better to be doing." Eva sighed.

"When I first found out I had the job, I came here, right?"

"Yeah. I know that bit." Eva laughed.

"Yeah. I said I didn't think it was real, I'd never met the boss, all that jazz. And you said you'd met him, Williams."

"Yeah?"

"Well, it turns out, I have met Williams. Course, I didn't know it was him when I met him, or when I took the job. Not sure I would've taken it if I'd known." Vi raised an eyebrow. Eva groaned.

"Do you remember that guy I was bitching about? It was ages ago, maybe seven months."

"No."

"Ok, fair enough. But you know Charlie."

"Yeah, are he and Jo still together?"

"Better than ever. So, when Charlie and Jo went on that vacation before Christmas last year, they invited me, along with this snot of a friend of Charlie's." Vi's jaw dropped.

"No."

"Much as it pains me to say it."

"Weird. I always remember him being a really nice guy."

"I'm not sure nice is the word."

"Good tips."

"That's a better description. I mean…" Eva scratched her neck. "I wasn't exactly the nicest in response, and I spent the whole thing blitzed out of my mind, but we didn't really get along."

"Is that really the whole story?" Vi asked. Eva's cheeks flushed red.

"I may have kissed him a little bit."

"Of course. It's the only reasonable course of action," Vi replied with a smile on her lips.

"Don't make fun of me," Eva said, slumping onto the counter.

"I'm not. I would've done it in a heartbeat. So, just to recap, the bitchy friend you accidentally snogged six months ago is now your boss."

"There's more."

"There can't be."

"I haven't told anyone this."

"I'm honored."

"After that whole…thing. I thought he hated me, right? He showed up in front of my apartment and…well."

"Proposed."

"No, nothing like that. Just sort of, you know, confessed his love for me."

"And?"

"And I reamed him out. He broke up Charlie and Jo, and he's a total dick."

"So you didn't see him for six months and now you work for him."

"It's a complete disaster."

"Is he bitchy about it?"

"That's the worst part. He's completely perfect and nice and gorgeous and-"

"And you're in love with him." Eva rolled her eyes.

"I'm not in love with him." Vi laughed.

"Just make sure you invite me to the wedding." Eva giggled despite herself and went about mopping the counter. After an hour or so, Vi requested she go check on Mike and make sure he didn't need anything. Eva tripped down the stairs in her usual manner, nearly running into the baker himself.

"Well, well," he said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Look who we have here." He pulled her into a hug. "How've you been?"

"Good," she said, though her response was muffled by the large chest of the man hugging her. "And you?"

"Excellent. Vi's been letting me remake the menu a little. I figured it needed a bit of an update. Here," he said, rummaging around and producing something. "Try this." He popped it into her mouth.

"Oh my God. That is amazing. What is that?"

"Oatmeal scone with fig compote. You like?"

"Oh my God. Can I have another?"

"Wait, try this. I've been experimenting with doing bite-size pies." He handed her a small latticed one.

"Strawberry rhubarb?" she asked. He nodded. She started to chew.

"Dude, this is awesome."

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "So, tell me about the new job."

"It's good."

"Sounds awesome," he deadpanned. Eva smacked him on the arm, mouth full of crumbs.

"I'm serious. I like it. It's a good place for me."

"Are we to lose you to the nasty editors? Cos, you know, we have pie."

"Don't be dumb. I'll never really leave. I'm still here weekends, maybe some afternoons."

"Vi'll miss you."

"Yeah," she said, walking towards the stairwell. "I'm sure Vi is the one who's going to miss me." Eva smiled and went upstairs, leaving Mike to his pies.

* * *

Around five, Vi dismissed both Eva and Mike, saying that she didn't really need the two of them and they should go for a walk or something before coming back for the late night espresso addicts. The two began to meander down the blocks, catching a few of the late afternoon rays.

"So," Eva started before trailing off.

"So," Mike replied easily.

"Anything fun going on?"

"Not really, just the stuff at the Den. Vi gave them a call, so they've calmed down a little bit about me not amounting to anything."

"How are they doing? Your parents, I mean."

"They're all right, doing about as expected. Yours?"

"About the same as usual. They haven't talked to me much since I took a break from school. Guess it proved I really was just screwing around here."

"I don't think that's really true," he said. Eva smiled sadly.

"It's nice to have your vote of confidence."

"Always happy to oblige." There was a lull in conversation for a few moments.

"So," Mike started.

"So," Eva replied. Mike laughed.

"I've been thinking about going to culinary school, making this whole thing legitimate. Vi said she'd have a spot for me when I came back, if I wanted it."

"That's awesome. You think you're gonna do it?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I mean it'd be good for me. Help get the parents off my back, but..."

"But what?"

"I don't know if it's right. I mean, I bake sometimes. I'm not exactly a chef or anything."

"Mike, I hate strawberry rhubarb pie. I absolutely detest it. And that was the best pie I've ever eaten."

"You're just saying that."

"I make fun of you relentlessly. Why would I pick now to start being nice?"

Mike laughed and put his arm around her shoulder. They continued to walk in the afternoon heat.

* * *

Eva spent the rest of the weekend alternating between her duties at the Den and the manuscripts. She saw little of her roommates, though she did go for lunch on Sunday with Maria. Jo spent much of the weekend over at Charlie's, while the twins seemed to refuse to be found in any of their usual places. Eva assumed they had each found new boy toys and would be occupied for the next few weeks, if not days.

Monday arrived with none of her usual hesitation or exhaustion. She was actually excited to be going to work. Good God, what was happening to her.

She punched in her code and stepped into the elevator, without any of her usual mashing of the 'close-door' button. She figured she was becoming a better person. As the doors began to slide shut, a rather large hand slid into the crevice. Eva frantically slapped at the console to open the door.

"Sorry," Eva said, "I didn't see-" She quieted as Darcy stepped into the elevator.

"Eva."

"Darcy, hi." He looked terrible, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. His outfit lacked the usual obsessive attention to detail and his hair stuck up in odder angles that usual. "You ok?"

"I've yet to be seriously injured by the office, though perhaps my luck may change." Eva cocked her head, then let it go. perhaps he hadn't noticed his appearance. He continued. "How was your weekend."

"Good, I worked a lot."

"Surely Richard isn't overloading you too much."

"No, I'm still working at the Den." His brows furrowed.

"If we need to renegotiate your contract here, I'm sure it can be made more satisfactory."

"Please, you've been more than generous. I just like working there is all." Why was he standing so close to her? Did she have something on her shirt? In her teeth? There was definitely something in her teeth.

"So," she said, hoping to detract from the probable mess in her mouth. "How was your weekend?"

"It could have been easier," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I have a few...personal complications at the moment." Eva struggled not to inquire. Darcy slung an easy smile over his face. "You've gotten a bit less inquisitive since we last spent time together."

"I've aged," she replied curtly.

"Hopefully not too much," he said with a grin. What the hell did that mean? And why was this elevator taking so long? It was only three floors or so.

"You might need a new elevator," she said. "I'm pretty sure this one came from the pilgrims."

"Well, it might help if you pressed the button." Before she could move, Darcy leaned over her, fingers lingering on the console. Within seconds, the elevator began to rise. Far too soon, they reached her floor. She stepped out on the main level, leaving him to continue up to his office. He gave her an easy nod as the elevator doors slid shut.

He smelled exactly the same, she pondered as she meandered to her office. She figured spearmint gum was forever ruined for her.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of update last Thursday. Our internet had a panic attack and has yet to turn back on. I'm currently camping out at the library, so, awesome. **

**Thought I'd write a slightly fluffy chapter to get in between the angst. Don't worry, it's coming. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	24. Adronitis

Eva reached her office, shutting the door behind her and taking a deep breath. She pulled a compact from her bag and examined her teeth. There wasn't anything. At least, not now. Maybe it had come out on its own. She snapped the compact back together, trying not to think about her boss, however gorgeous he may be, however lovely he might smell. She really had always loved spearmint, not that she would admit that to him. She wasn't sure how he managed it. It's not like she ever saw him chewing gum. Not dignified enough.

She returned to reality as she noticed the large stack of manuscripts now piled onto her desk. She put her things down, grabbed a stack and a pen, and walked into the hallway. She plunked herself down next to Cleo in the editor's lounge.

"Hey."

"Hey," Cleo replied. "How was the weekend?"

"Busy, you know. Worked a lot."

"Come on, live a little. Do a few body shots in Williamsburg. Why not?"

"I take it you had a fun weekend."

'You have no idea."

"You hungover?"

"I prefer the time 'headache-inclined.'"

"Oh, hun."

"Girl, it's the way to enjoy New York."

"Puking on the back of a guy in a cab?"

"Ok, you should have seen this guy. He was GOR-geous."

"I believe you, darling." Eva stood, having realized she had forgotten her phone in her office. She walked down the hall, humming to herself and nearly bowling over a tall blonde woman. The woman backed away with scorn on her voice. She was older, maybe thirty-five or forty, but had clearly taken pains to appear younger. She was clad in expensive looking leather and denim, with large diamonds gracing her neck and ears. Eva was pretty sure her bag was a Birkin.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." The woman merely looked at her. "Is there anything I can help you with."

"You must know where Darcy works, yes?" She spoke with an affected Southern drawl, spending extra time on the 'da', sugaring over the 'r', and relishing in the 'cy'.

"Yeah, he's just upstairs. If you take a-"

"You'll take me there. You are such a dear." The woman shrugged her bag further up on her shoulder and gave her a pointed look.

"Uh, sure. if you'll just follow me." Eva led her to the elevator, stepping in after her. The doors shut."

"So," Eva began, "What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," the woman said, examining a nail. Eva took it as a sign to cease all attempts at conversation. When the door opened, Eva rushed out and into Darcy's office.

"Darcy," she began nervously. He edged his head away from the phone, looking at her. "Umm, there's someone here to see you."

"Who?" he mouthed.

"She didn't say her name. She's tall, blonde, really expensive bag." Darcy's eyes bulged.

"I'll have to call you back," he muttered into the phone, slamming down the receiver and standing up.

"Eva, I don't know how you get yourself in these situations, but you cannot be here for this. I'll expect you to come up as soon as Catherine leaves."

"Catherine? Who's Catherine?"

"No time," he said, pushing her out of the office and ushering in the blonde woman. Eva turned to ask him again, but the door shut in her face. She silently took the elevator back down and returned to her office to retrieve her phone. She settled in next to Cleo.

"How do you even get yourself into these situations?" the girl asked.

"What?"

"You just escorted some blonde bitch up to Williams's office. Why is it always you?"

"Dude, if I could answer you, I would."

"My money's on an ex-wife."

"I don't think he's been married."

"You think no one's been hitched to that?"

"Just a feeling."

"Hell, you know him better than I do." The two settled into easy work for the next hour, after which Catherine retreated and Eva found the courage to return to Darcy's office. She knocked on the door timidly and, hearing a muffled, reply, pushed into the room. He sat behind his desk, hair rumpled, a glass of something amber in front of him.

"Eva, sit down," he said, propping his legs atop his desk. He gestured to his glass. "You want?" She just looked at him, sitting down. "Right," he replied, "You're stronger than the rest of us. We need to have a little chat."

"What about?"

"About what you just witnessed."

"Who, Catherine? I don't even know who the bitch is." He looked at her.

"The bitch is the mother of my sister." Eva looked down.

"Sorry I called her a bitch."

"No apology necessary, she's a raging torrent of everything horrible in this world. But that's a different story. Under no circumstances are you to discuss with anyone the fact that you saw her here today."

"No offense, but everyone saw her here today. She wasn't exactly flying under the radar."

"Yes, but you are the only one who knows who she is. You must promise me that you will not discuss her with anyone. Not even Cleo."

"Do you just know everything that goes on in this office?"

"Yes," he said curtly. "Do I have your word?"

"Why can't anyone know about her?"

"Well, Eva, I'm not sure why you think that's any of your goddamn business,"

"I'm sorry," she said, standing. "I won't talk to anyone." She turned to leave.

"Eva, sit down." She did as told. "There are certain legal problems that arise when you attempt to gain custody of a child from his or her mother, especially when one has such a background as mine." He took a slug of whatever was sitting in front of him. "Catherine seems to have done her best to ensure my victory, what with her own irresponsible behavior. The judge is clearly on my side, but that legal precedent is not particularly in my favor. There's my own history, of course, which has the disadvantages it presents, but..." Darcy looked at her. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, only child."

"There's this unspeakable bond. You... you would do anything to save them."

"You don't need to explain yourself to me."

"I want to explain myself to you. I need to talk to someone."

"What about a therapist? Richard? Or Charlie? " Darcy laughed sadly.

"Charlie? I haven't spoken to Charlie in six months. Rather, he won't talk to me."

"I bet he would if you reached out to him. You guys have been friends for ages."

"There are nuances to our friendship that are hard to understand."

"I bet he'd forgive you."

"No one ever forgives anyone. A man's good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

"It's a sad world you live in."

"At least I know that it's sad. I admit it to myself. Everyone pretends it's all well and good as they die slowly, rotting with every breath they take."

"It's not like that."

"It is for me." They were silent for a few moments. "You can go if you want."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," he replied after a pause. She did.

* * *

After such a time as she felt safe leaving him to his own devices, Eva went back downstairs and prepared to eat lunch. She picked up a sandwich from the thoughtfully provided lunch tray, then walked by Cleo to collect her things.

"Hey, what took you so long up there?"

"Darcy needed some help."

"With his dick?" Cleo mumbled. Eva spun around.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry to be crass, it's just... people are starting to assume things. You know, you spend a lot of time with him. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks for the heads up," Eva muttered, stalking away to her office. She shut the door firmly behind her and sat down. Regretting entirely what she was about to do, she took a large bite of her sandwich and opened up her computer. She tried 'Darcy Williams' first. She sifted through the assorted articles and interviews until she found a small biography.

_Darcy Williams (born April 4, 1983) is the current editor-in-chief of Symposium, a small publishing house currently operating in the Tri-State area. He founded Symposium after a brief but celebrated career as a writer of short only child of Avery and Cecily Williams, Williams currently resides in Manhattan with partial custody of his half-sister._

Avery and Cecily. God, the entire damn family really did have the WASPiest names in the universe. Eva took another bite of sandwich and clicked on Cecily's name.

_Cecily Williams (June 17, 1955- April 8, 2006) was the philanthropic wife of Avery Williams, noted industrialist and businessman._

There was a long discussion of her charitable contributions, but Eva scrolled down to the stunning last line.

_Williams died of glioblastoma multiforme at the age of 50. She is survived by her only son, Darcy Williams._

After a quick shudder, she continued on to the husband.

_Avery Williams (March 23, 1949- October 4, 2010) was the founder and long-time CEO of Williams Industries. After the death of his first wife, he founded the Cecily Fund, a charitable organization noted for their efforts to both treat and cause awareness for numerous forms of brain cancer. In September, 2008, Williams married Elsa Catherine, socialite. Williams's second child, Georgiana, was born in February of 2009._

Eva scrolled down.

_Williams died of coronary complications at the age of 61. He is survived by his second wife, Elsa, and his two children, Darcy and Georgiana._

Eva shut her laptop. This was wrong. She shouldn't have done this. It was fine if she was just looking at him or at his work. She wouldn't have felt bad if she had read some of his old stories, or if she'd found pictures of him from high school, or even a list of his former conquests, but this was crossing a line. She wouldn't think about it anymore. Maybe she'd even try to forget it, and then it'd be all right. She pulled out a manuscript and started to work, planning to stay in her office for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Eva stayed in her office and worked, refusing to speak to most anyone. Around seven, she heard a knock on the door.

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

"Why not, right?" Darcy opened the door and sat down opposite her.

"I wanted to thank you. You know, for earlier."

"You really shouldn't, it was no trouble."

"I'm serious. Let me take you out to dinner, something."

'Darcy, I..."

"Please." She sighed.

"Am I dressed for the occasion?"

"Anything you are wearing is absolutely perfect. You ready?"

"Yeah, lemme just pack this all up," Eva said, standing. "What exactly were you in the mood for?"

"I hadn't really gotten that far in the process. There's a decent French place around the corner."

"Why not, right?" she replied. Darcy stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled.

**Author's Note: Woot, another update. Don't worry, the restaurant convo is coming up soon. I just want to take the extra time to make it exactly right. Thanks for reading and putting up with me and all that jazz.**

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	25. Empheme

They walked to the restaurant, speaking little and preferring to listen to the hubbub of the city in the early July heat. It was getting dark, the sun beginning to fade down behind the skyscrapers of the city.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's amazing what this city does to you."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Close to it, but not in the city." The conversation faded out. Symposium was in a particularly leafy part of the city, and the trees sloped over them in a roof. The last bits of sunlight were beginning to drip down onto them, golden shafts running through their hair.

"So," Eva began, "Do you have any big plans for the fourth?"

"Not really," he replied. "I usually just spend it with my sister. You're probably heading back up to Meryton, yeah?"

"You remembered."

"Good memory."

"Really good. I must have mentioned it like once."

"It comes in handy."

"Yeah, there's a beach up there that does this great fireworks display. Georgie would love it." Eva immediately realized what she had said, but if Darcy noticed, he didn't show it.

"It must have been nice, growing up on a beach."

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know, I sort of hated it there." Before she could delve into her all-consuming hatred of her hometown, they reached the restaurant. It was a small bistro, one that wouldn't have looked out of place in Paris. Though, considering Eva had never been, she couldn't quite consider herself an expert on the subject. The maitre'd, seeming to recognize Darcy, gave them a smile and a nod and led them to a table near the back. The chairs were wrought iron with wood scattered sporadically around lopsided tables. Old vintage posters covered the walls, save for one, which was monopolized by a large wine rack. It was hard not to consider the room a cliche, but it was pleasant all the same.

"Darcy?"

"Yes."

"Why aren't there menus?"

"The whole restaurant eats the same meal. It changes every night, but Hugo knows what he's doing."

"Hugo?"

"I met him in France. I thought we needed a decent French place near here," he said with an air of complete normality. Eva stared at him. "I'm kidding," he said, laughing. Something gave Eva the impression that he was not.

A waitress brought out the first course, some sort of tomato puree over croutons and feta. It was excellent.

"Why have I never been here?" Eva asked.

"It's a well-kept secret."

"Not too well-kept, the place is packed."

"It's pretty good, isn't it?"

"It's excellent."

"So," he said hesitantly. "Read anything decent recently?" Eva laughed.

"You mean, besides the books I read for you? Yeah, one. It's been ok."

"Pray tell."

"Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures. It's a group of doctors as they progress through med school. All about their own social crap. It's actually pretty decent. You?"

"Just the books for work."

"Pity."

"Why?"

"It always scared me when people never found time to read outside of whatever they were doing."

"Even when their jobs were books?" he asked. She laughed.

"Even then. I remember when you first told me about your job. I thought you were insane. Some trustafarian who just decided he was only going to read books."

"Well, you aren't too far off." Eva looked down into her soup.

"Sorry."

'No harm, no foul." The waitress removed their bowls, then brought the next course, roast chicken in some sort of brown sauce with polenta. Eva took a bite.

"God, what is this perfect thing?"

"Hay sauce," he said, forking a bite into his own mouth.

"Hay sauce."

"Yes, hay sauce," he said, taking a sip of wine. Eva had a hard time not staring at his lips. He had this terrible habit of rubbing them together, occasionally sticking his tongue out to clean them.

"If you'd care to explain."

"I read a book about it and thought I'd mention it to the chef."

"The chef you brought over from France."

"Precisely. Does this confuse you?"

"You confuse me, but that's an entirely different point."

"Pray tell."

"You don't make sense. You glower and smirk and relentlessly make fun of everyone you're around, yet everyone loves you. You make me feel stupid on a daily basis, but you're one of the kindest men I know. You told me…you know, stuff, then you disappear for six months and come back all jacked and ridiculous."

"You think I'm attractive?"

"That's what you got out of that? Really? Besides, I didn't say that. I said muscular," she said, casually sipping her water. "Surely as a writer, you should know the difference."

"I'm not a writer anymore."

"Surely, as someone who spends all day with words, you should know the difference."

"Perhaps," he said, taking another bite. "And, for the record, you're the one who popped back into my life, not the other way around."

"Do we have to talk about this?"

"Not if you don't want to. I spoke to Mike. He said you had a book you wanted to publish."

"No, let's go back to talking about the other thing."

"Is it smut? We do publish erotica under the proper circumstances."

"You were talking to Mike?"

"Is it vampires? Because, you know, we can work with that."

"Darcy."

"I'd be interested to read it."

"I'd be interested to keep it to myself. Why were you talking to Mike?"

"I wanted a coffee."

"You went out to the Den because you wanted a coffee. There are like 37 Starbucks between here and the Den."

"They make better espresso. And the scones are delicious."

"You are entirely ridiculous."

"Coming from you, I take that as a compliment. But I do want to talk about your book."

"I don't really like talking about my book."

"Why not? You're a brilliant editor. It only makes sense that you've spent time working on your own ideas. Most of the editors have."

"You think I'm brilliant?"

"I think you have potential, and I think your book might as well."

"I just don't like talking about it. It isn't good."

"How long have you been working on it?"

"Oh, I don't know. Ten years?" Darcy swallowed audibly.

"Ten years?"

"See, you're going to laugh."

"I won't laugh."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Have you seriously been working on the thing for ten years? What's it about?"

"It's a boy and a girl. They do stuff. It's dumb. I thought of it when I was in highschool, and I never had the heart to stop working on it. Did you ever do NaNoWriMo?"

"No."

"It's this challenge to write a novel in a month. I did it for a few years when I had the time. I came up with this book, this girl and this boy. It's stupid."

"I don't believe you."

"Let's talk about you, about your past. What's your delicious past you keep hinting about?" Darcy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The waitress cleared their plates and brought the cheese course. Something blue.

"Tell you what," Darcy began. "Since you're replacing my therapist anyway... I tell you my past, I have your manuscript on my desk by the end of the month."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I want to help you. And it can't possibly be as bad as you're saying it is."

"Ok, fine. Tell me. I'm all ears." The waitress cleared the plates and brought dessert. Pineapple panna cotta.

"How far back should I go?"

"Oh, tell me everything," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"My father was the CEO of his company, Williams Industries. You might have heard of them." Eva choked on her coffee a bit. "My mother was a philanthropist. Lovely balance to my father's capitalism. I was an only child, did rather well, was all set to inherit the company, continue the legacy. I went to Harvard, did a year at Oxford. I was in my first few months at the company when my mother died of brain cancer."

"I'm so sorry."

"Me too. My father shut down. I panicked. I ran away. For nearly two years, I ran away. I travelled. I grew a beard. I got dysentery."

"You say this so calmly."

"It's happened. There's nothing to panic about now. I came back a few years later, having told myself I had figured everything out. I told my father I wasn't going to follow his legacy, that he should pick someone else to run the company. He just smiled at me, a sad sort of smile. I remember exactly what he said. He just looked at me, straight in the eye, and told me he was getting married."

"Catherine," Eva breathed. Darcy nodded.

"Catherine. Perhaps the general tone of the story is that I'm not particularly good at sticking around when the going gets tough. So I pulled a Walden. I bought some property on the coast of California and decided I was going to build a house. I knew nothing about what I was doing. But I did it. I figured it out. I still go out there sometimes. It was perfect, but I don't know why. I fell out of life. I didn't talk to anyone I knew. Not Richard. Not Charlie. Certainly not my father. I heard through some gossip papers that they'd had a kid, he and Catherine. My sister." Darcy sniffed. "And I wouldn't visit her. I refused. I don't know why. I know I should have, but I was a child. It was a few years like that. Eventually, Richard showed up on my door. He said my father had died. Heart attack. That I had a sister. That I needed to come home. And I did. I started the company, helped set up a new heir to the Williams empire, though I have managed of keep a few of my perks. I started my own life as a real adult. I have partial custody of my sister, considering her mother is a raging mess. And now I'm here."

"You know, it's amazing how you've said so much and managed to say so little about yourself."

"I keep my cards close to my chest." There was a pause. "But a deal's a deal."

"Did you have any pets?"

"A dog. A collie named Murphy. He died when I was seventeen or so."

"Favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Favorite food?"

"Dessert."

"Favorite dessert?"

"S'mores."

"Favorite vacation?" There was a pause as Darcy contemplated. He smiled.

"Netherfield." Eva cocked her head.

"Which time?"

"Take your pick." There was another pause.

"Darcy?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For dinner. For talking to me. For making me feel like I'm not the only fucked up person in the world." Darcy laughed and raised his glass.

"To being fucked up." Eva smiled.

"Cheers."

* * *

Darcy walked home from the restaurant alone. Eva refused an escort home, and Darcy had bid her adieu. The night was dark now, but still warm enough to walk home. His bag thumped against his thigh. How was he supposed to live with this girl? He couldn't get enough of her. She was intoxicating, all consuming. He didn't know how to live without her, and yet... And yet he didn't know how she could possibly stand to live with him. He didn't know if there was anything he could do. He was fairly certain there was nothing he could do.

He couldn't believe he had told her what he had told her. It was for a worthy cause, but he had told her everything. A girl he barely knew. A girl he wholeheartedly loved.

No. He had to bury those feelings. She was just a girl he knew. A girl he liked talking to. A girl he wanted to take out to dinner and spend time with. To sit and read with and grow old with. No.

No. He wouldn't. He wouldn't grow old with her.

He walked home alone, bag thumping against his leg as the evening got colder.

**Author's Note: Yay, new chapter. Thanks for sticking with me. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


	26. Rückken

Eva threw a few days worth of things into a bag and met Mike at the train station. They settled into a row, Mike ceding the window to Eva.

"I can't believe you talked to Darcy."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The weird guy with dumb hair comes in and starts asking about my book, and you just started talking to him?"

"Oh, Williams, yeah. I just..." A brief moment of realization crossed over Mike's face. "Oh. That's Darcy. Right."

"Right."

"Is it that big a deal?"

"He wants to read it."

"I want to read it, but I haven't been able to convince you to do it. I don't really see what the problem is." Eva chose not to think about the ramifications of agreeing to Darcy's deal and decided to end the conversation.

"You excited to head back?"

"Sure. I guess. I don't know. Maybe?"

"That's about where I am."

"It's just weird. When I was a kid, the fireworks were the most important part of the summer. And now, it's just sort of a chore. Every year, we cattle onto the beach and watch our money explode into flashes of color, ever sinking deeper and deeper into our own pits of death and unhappiness."

"You're getting existential in your old age."

"Maybe I'll write a book on philosophy."

"Maybe I'll publish it for you," Eva replied. Mike turned to look at her.

"You aren't mad about your book, are you?"

"Not too mad. I got a good deal for it." Mike raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Darcy's...uh...he's gonna read it." Mike pouted.

"And you wouldn't let me look at it."

"Mike, he's a publisher. He knows what he's doing. It can't be the worst thing he's read. Besides," Eva paused and swallowed. "Besides, he might want to publish it. I've been working on the damned thing for almost ten years. Do you know how much it would mean if he actually published it? If all that work actually came to something? If...if I could actually be a writer. It's what I've wanted to do since I was little and... and you're looking at me like I'm crazy." Mike mustered a smile.

"Not like you're crazy."

"What then?"

"You just confuse me. I don't know. I can't really explain it."

"You really know how to make a girl feel loved." Mike laughed and took her hand.

"If this is a good thing for you, then I'm happy for you."

"I guess I sort of should be thanking you."

"Don't worry about it."

"Thanks."

"Did you replaced by a pod person or something?"

"Shut up," she said, smacking him in the arm. "I'm trying to be nice."

"It's cute, coming from you."

"Stop. You're being mean to me."

"You're the one who punched me in the arm."

"I hate you."

"Love you too, darling."

* * *

The two got off of the train, vowing to find each other at the beach in order to escape their respective families. Eva began the short walk to her house, preparing herself for her mother and the inevitable barrage of questions that was to be received in the coming minutes. She pushed open the door and was promptly assaulted by her mother, who was dressed in her full All-American regalia.

"Darling, it has been so long," she said, kissing Eva on each cheek. "I do wish we could see each other more often."

"I come up as often as I-"

"So tell me about the new job. Editor. Oh, isn't that exciting. I was talking to the girls down at the club and they are all simply so excited for you to do well. I don't want to name names, but Candy's friends with Muffy, and her second husband Todd, oh, you remember Todd, he was the one who used to drink scotch and hit on Sadie, the poor dear. Anyway, Todd used to work with Tyler, who knew Trevor, who was friends with Travis and, well, long story short, I have got to hear about this di-VINE new boss of yours. Candy says he's single."

"Yeah, and mad as a box of cats."

"Sorry, darling, you'll have to speak up. I simply can't hear you when you mumble like that. Oh, would you look at the time. That train is always coming in late. I simply must get all packed for tonight. We're doing dinner at Chelsea and Bart's house, you know, they're right on the beach, poor dears. Nearly got washed away in the storm." Eva's mother trailed off as she flounced into the next room, leaving Eva exhausted in the foyer. She went into her father's study to give him a quick kiss, then retreated to her room, throwing her bag onto the floor and collapsing onto her bed. As mad as her parents drove her, every time she got into that bed, she thought about moving back in.

She'd gotten lucky just then, though she didn't particularly want to admit it. At some point, she was going to have to talk to her mother about Darcy. About how he'd hired her with her lack of connections, her lack of degree, her lack of anything resembling a stable mental status. How he wanted to publish her book. How nice he was to her. She hadn't been able to talk to anyone about the dinner they'd had together. She hadn't seen the twins in days, and Maria wasn't exactly good with handling guy stuff. Jo had been spending so much time at Charlie's, it was almost as if she were living in a different country. And she felt weird talking to Cleo about this stuff. Though, now that she thought about it, she hadn't talked to Cleo since she'd practically accused her of sleeping with the boss. Yeah, dinner was going to have to stay a secret from her.

She walked downstairs, shrugging a cardigan on. Why her mother insisted on keeping the air conditioning on so low was beyond her.

"Mom?"

"Yes, darling. What?"

"Can I...Can I help?"

"Sure honey, slice those tomatoes." Eva pulled a knife from the drawer and obligingly began to dice. "So, what's wrong?"

"What?"

"You never offer to help cook unless something's wrong. So, what is it?"

"I just...you wanted to hear about my new boss, right?"

"Sure, honey, I've heard he's gorgeous."

"Yeah, he's...umm...he's pretty cute."

"Don't 'umm,' darling, it's undignified."

"Mom," Eva said, putting the knife down. "I have something I need to say."

"Get it off your chest, then." Eva sighed, then launched into the story, starting with the Caribbean vacation. She waded her way through the shipwreck, the necklace, the declaration of love at her doorstep, getting the new job.

"- and then he invites me out to dinner, and I said yes. I mean, he's my boss, what else was I supposed to say? So I said yes and I went and it was just nice. We talked and it was just nice."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"What? Mom, no."

"Just checking, darling. You know, if you had, there's nothing to be ashamed of. When I was your age, I slept with-"

"Mom. Stop."

"Fine, fine. But I'm just saying, you can talk to me about anything. You know, being cooped up here with your father all of the time, I think it's beginning to drive me a bit mad. It's terrible for my poor nerves."

"I'd have guessed as much."

"Here's where I'm meant to give you some sage advice that I've picked up over my years, yes?"

"That'd be nice."

"Don't attach yourself to someone you don't love. Find your best friend, someone you absolutely and wholly adore, and hold onto them forever." Eva smiled.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"I love your father, if that's what you're asking. How else do you think I could've put up with him for the past thirty years?"

"Put up with me? Helena, I believe you may have misremembered the past few decades."

"Oh, how nice of you to appear, James. Perhaps you'd care to help, or just help yourself to the scotch. Whichever you prefer. Will you be ready to leave soon?"

Eva smiled as she watched her parents squabble. Marry her best friend, and hold onto him forever.

* * *

After escaping the preppy hell of her parent's dinner party, Eva wandered onto the beach. She'd made plans to meet Mike at the Pavillion, a ratty brick building that seemed to have been on the beach since the beginning of time. After wading through the ubiquitous mess of small children, she spotted him through the crowd. He looked up at her and smiled, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"So," she began, "Bad as always?"

"Mostly."

"I know the feeling. I think my mother just wonders why I'm not married yet."

"At least she's happy about the new job, yeah?"

"She'd happy that I have a hot boss."

"We should go sit down, the fireworks should be starting soon."

"Yeah," she said quietly. They walked to a miraculously unoccupied bench and sat down.

"Sorry I snapped at you earlier."

"I'm not sure I could call it a 'snap.'"

"Why don't people ever let me apologize?"

"It's not exactly in character."

"Maybe I'm trying to let it be a part of my character."

"You shouldn't have to change yourself."

"Just let me say sorry."

"Ok."

"I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology, though I find it entirely unwarranted."

"Thanks, man." Mike's hand slowly crawled across the bench, resting gently on hers. She looked up at him.

"Mike."

"Yes?" he replied softly.

"I...um."

"Don't speak," he said, staring into her eyes.

"I'm not exactly known for my silence," she said softly.

"Try for me." She looked up at him. Mike. Cute Mike. There was a sharp boom, but Mike didn't break their gaze.

"The fireworks are starting."

"That they are." With that, he pressed his lips to hers. They broke after a few seconds, merely looking at each other.

* * *

"Darce, where are we going?"

"Fireworks, darling."

"We had to come all the way up here?"

"It was an hour on the train. Surely you can manage."

"Can we eat now?"

"Are you hungry?" Georgie put her hands on her hips.

"Obviously, or I wouldn't have asked."

"Fair enough," Darcy replied, chuckling. "Go play on the playground for a bit. I'll pick a spot of beach and then we'll eat." Georgie nodded and ran off eagerly. Darcy dropped the bags in the sand and went about setting up the picnic. He went about it methodically, sitting down and pulling a beer from the cooler before beginning to gnaw on a piece of bread. Georgie wandered back eventually, stuffed herself with everything, and ran back to the playground, vowing to come back just before the fireworks. Darcy sat by himself quietly. He buried his feet in the sand, lay down, and pulled out a manuscript.

He hadn't seen her, but just knowing that she was there made him happy.

He worked for an hour or so before Georgie came running back.

"Darcy, can I have an ice cream?"

"Sure," he said, handing her money. She shifted her feet. "Do you want me to come with you?" She nodded vigorously. Darcy stood. There was a small shack shop next to the big brick patio. The Pavillion, they called it. Georgie chattered on and on about all of the new friends she had just made. Darcy listened with complete contentedness and bought them both ice cream. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar brown head next to a large and utterly male frame. Shock. Anger coursed through his body, and he began to grind his teeth together.

"Darcy?" Georgie asked. "Is something wrong?" Her face was covered in melted ice cream and a stripe of sand ran down her leg. She cocked her head, ponytail leaning to the side.

"Absolutely not, sweetheart," he said, casting the rage from his body. "Now, tell me about everything. This Anna, correct? She was cheating in hide and seek?"

"She was peeking! And it just wasn't fair, so- Oh, look! Fireworks." Darcy looked into the sky and cast a quick glance back at Eva. No. He didn't care. He was in control of himself, of his feelings. He wouldn't act out, and he certainly wouldn't let any of his emotions drip into Georgie. He was done affecting other people with his emotions.

He sat down next to Georgie on the blanket and finished his ice cream, then wiped Georgie's face.

He was in control.

**Author's Note: Nothing like some good romantic misdirection. Hope you haven't started writing the death threats yet, it'll all work out properly. **

**Much love and best wishes, **

**Zoe**


End file.
